Between Two Hearts
by White Winged Fox
Summary: Ten years ago, Cynder vanished into the night without a trace or word. Forced to accept his loss, Spyro eventually moved onto another female - Solaria, daughter of the fallen guardian Ignitus. It has been four years now since they've been together and now have a child to their name. Things look set for the purple dragons's life...until Cynder returns...
1. The Day of Heroes

**Hi all, for those who recognise me and my other story, I just want to say there is nothing to worry about. I am not stopping Beliefs of Liars. Just wanted to write something in between cleaning the last chapters.**

 **This here is a short story I had been thinking of for a while, so I decided to finally get it down on paper. I will have most likely written all the other chapters before uploading. I've also decided to write shorter chapters to make it easier to do stuff.**

 **I hope you all enjoy regardless.**

 **WhiteWingedFox**

The Day of Heroes

Neither expected to survive the cataclysmic events, so they used the time to unearth regrets and tell final secrets.

But the gods heard their request and gave it to them.

They were alive, brought back to the reformed surface by a power far beyond their own understanding; but more importantly...they were together.

With betrayals forgiven and feelings spoken, all they could do was embrace each other's weary bodies and speak the sacred words. Everything was fine, everything was over...

...Until she vanished into the starry night.

Many searches swept the reforged realms, but turned up empty. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and many had given up on her safe return. But Spyro tried so desperately to find her; he searched the darkest corners and highest peaks, but found no trace of the elusive dragoness. The years passed by and even his valiant determination began falling behind the untiring tides of time. Finally, after seven dark years, his waning soul gave out, and his hope for the one faded. It was time he moved on, lest he risked eternal sadness.

Many female suitors came forth to fill that empty trench over the years, but none ever claimed the purple dragon's claw. But one day, his heart opened up to a new dragoness…

It had been a long decade since the realm was saved by the dark tyranny of Malefor, yet everyone remembered it like it was the day after. How could they forget? Even weeks after those dramatic events, parties celebrating Spyro's triumphant victory still erupted out onto the streets where late-night walkers and watchful guards would get caught up in the drunken antics of wobbly moles.

The feral, heartless orcs had lost their world-ending ways and now trudged the lands in bands looking for destructive past times to quell their rampageous urges. Over time they too fell to the tides of time and claws of dragons until only pockets of them existed.

Ever since then, a celebration was held each year to commemorate the brave actions of Spyro, the hero of Warfang and the world. This event was known as the Day of Heroes, which was ironically named considering the festival would span three days.

But each year the guardians, who had since become noble leaders of the city, would try and outdo the previous years with more booze and a bigger firework display. They tried especially hard this time around since it was celebrating the ten year milestone. They rushed around ordering moles and dragons, trying to finalise preparations for the event.

Friday marked the first day of such a grand event, where the temple centralised in the heart of the city was decorated in beautiful ribbons and fine silk banners of all colours, and was then opened up to all of Warfang. The citizens would gather and flow into the temple's great open hall where they would talk and compete to see who could tell the tallest tale of bravery.

When the afternoon came, the drunken rabble were cleared out so that the hall could be prepared for Warfang's richer and more upstanding citizens to come and dine under the temple's famous marble architecture.

Other junctions or famous landmarks would also become party grounds, often getting pilfered in rubbish and half-eaten food products.

On the second and third day, travelling merchants of all species would travel from far distances to set up shop and sell 'Spyro approved' merchandise in hopes for making a quick coin off the gullible and over-indulged people. Many vivid stalls would open up with shifty shopkeepers holloreing people over and bickering with other merchants like territorial walruses. At the end of the third day a large firework display is held off Warfang coast, where gatherings of creatures would flock onto the cliffs and watch the marvelous, vibrant explosions shoot into the cooling sunset skies like streaking dragonflies.

It is truly a beautiful spectacle to behold, as many travellers would visit warfang just for the sake of the festivities and to see the great city that stood the strains of war. But even more so to see the true jewel of the celebration, the legend himself...Spyro.

It was now the final day of the festival, and Spyro was once more being hounded by his well-dressed agent, drearing over the drake's afternoon agenda. He had been through this process before in the previous years, but he sword each time the deadlines got tighter as his agent tried to cram him into as many different venues he could. This time of the year was always tiring and stressful, even though these days were dedicated to him. He was rushed to one location to say a few words before being dragged off to do the same thing another thirty times; rinse and repeat for the next few days.

Do not get him wrong, he loved seeing the moles and dragons get time off work to celebrate their freedom, to happily party away their inner struggles to gather and party for one united purpose. He loved seeing their beaming smiles directed at him. But most of all he loved seeing the fireworks on the final night from his quiet spot atop the plateau behind Warfang. He would often lie on the soft grass, undisturbed by the mobbing fans and high expectations, and gently listening to the subtle breeze blowing the apple tree leaves; the bright moon bracing him in mellow light. But on these specific nights especially, were among his favourites. He loved to see the glistening colours of fireworks reflect off the ocean's rippling waters, to light up the black, starry skies in their rainbows of shining colours. It was beautiful...and appeasing to his weary soul.

Eventually, the agent's seemingly endless list came to an abrupt stop. The mole started rolling up the long piece of paper dragging on the smooth sandstone floor.

"That's it for tomorrow, please don't forget," the prestigious mole droned. He turned towards the purple dragon.

Spyro was shoved out of his wonderful daydream as he turned down towards his furry agent.

"Did you hear anything I said?" he grumbled.

"Of course," Spyro replied, trying not to sound bored as he stared back at the mole. He hoped the mole's sharp, beady eyes couldn't slash through his lie.

"Why do I even bother," he muttered to himself. "Alright, fine. I see your attention span is short as usual." The mole then tilted his glasses and looked back at his list of times and locations. Finally he grumbled a response, "We'll cancel this one so you can have the hour." The mole took out his pencil from his front, leather pouch and crossed off one specific object on a seemingly monotone list. "Now scram, kid. I got things to organise. Be back before the hour and we'll go through the list once more." The mole then paced ahead.

Spyro could only smile. While his agent could be tense and a little cranky at times, he took good care of him and did little things like this every now and again.

* * *

Spyro was relieved. He rarely got time to actually go explore the city on his own, and there were a selection of stalls he wanted to visit before the event ended. Ahead of him stood the gapping entrance leading out of the temple. Thick, round, chiselled pillars supported the curved arches above, leading out to the beautiful blue skies of the open world. The afternoon sun burned bright and glorious, high above the city and casting its warming light to those lucky enough to embrace it.

Without hesitation he walked out into the clean, crisp air. The smell of freshly cut grass lingered on the shallow wind as moles with cutting knives tended the pristine lawns that stretched to either sides of the courtyard. Rows of squarely sliced hedges hugged the edge of the silver fences that kept the noisy population out. Many flowers ranging from sunshine yellow to crimson red and amethyst purple sheltered themselves underneath the two giant oak trees' canopies that made their presence known in the centre of the two lawns. A straight checkered path of cleanly grinded slabs sprawled out to the large arched gateways that led out to the grand city that was Warfang.

Spyro walked down the three steps and towards the open exit. There was one particular place a little off the beaten path he liked to visit; he rarely was pestered there and visited often enough to be seen as a regular. The locals treated him as one of them and that gave Spyro some much needed time away from his high-profile life. While he could have flown there, there was something special about just walking from time to time, to be able to appreciate the surroundings without having the need to rush; that and he wouldn't stand out like a beacon to the fanatics below.

He marched out the front gate. Ahead of him lay Warfang's biggest and busiest street. It in itself was a hullabaloo every day, but throw in all the jam-packed stands and you've got yourself a tedious, slow obstacle course and a bad time. Luckily Spyro had become familiar with the back-alleys, allowing him an easier opportunity to traverse the bustling city. He turned left and walked on. Shortly after, a small opening in the buildings appeared, to which he entered. The clean pavement came to swift end and instead replaced with cracked uneven concrete. A collection of pots was huddled up against one of the towering walls and stacks of boxes filled with grain and other baking ingredients were planted next to a battered back door.

A couple of brown rats made themselves scarce as the large purple dragon made his way through with his wings tucked in close to his body. He wondered how long it would be before he no longer could fit down this path meant for moles. He was nowhere near the size of the guardians, but he was certainly much bigger than he was ten years ago. He was taller and his muscles had considerably grown to support his new size. His wing span has broadened as well, allowing him to fly for longer distances and more swiftly through the endless skies. His purple scales had never lost their famous purple shine, giving the dragon a lustrous violet colouring to match the deep gold of his underbelly and chest. His back spines had also grown and curved backwards like shark fins. His horns stretched to new heights, straight like a sword and only angled at certain points.

To call him handsome was an understatement, but that wasn't why Spyro kept himself in such good condition. For him the pride lay with the knowledge that he was clean and well-maintained.

He navigated the back alley labyrinth like the back of his talon, traversing the narrow, shadowed corridors.

Then he stopped.

He could feel a pair of burning eyes staring at the back of his skull, not that of a friend...but of a stalker. He twisted his head behind him and looked towards the roofs...nothing. He knew he was being followed, by who though didn't concern him; he had been shadowed before and it usually never came to harm. He continued on, trying to forget the piercing eyes drilling into his cranium.

Unfortunately, this was one of the downsides of being this famous: constant super-fans following your every move, paperazzi looking to pry into your private life for tasty stories. All was almost guaranteed each time he stepped outside the temple, which he regrettably had to do often. Going to parties and junctions wasn't just a rare occurrence. It was a job. His agent would organise events such as grand openings, parties and more for Spyro to go to. For the first couple of months Spyro enjoyed it, but after that it became a mundane chore, and Spyro only did it to keep people happy at the expense of his own being and satisfaction.

It didn't help that these events would have at least one dragoness trying to woo him, even though he had found someone at last to fill the dark abyss created when _she_ left. It constantly frustrated him that these other high-profile dragonesses would still try to use their titles and position as a way to see themselves as worthy enough to be with him. He had lost count how many times he had turned them down, sometimes the same dragoness many times.

On top of this job, he would often attend guardian meetings to discuss plans for the city and also continue honing his skills in the unlikely event of another invasion. This left Spyro very little time to do what he actually wanted to do; he was controlled like a puppet. But any free time he did have would often be dedicated to relaxing and finding peace in the solace of his home. His place of refuge consisted of an extension of the glorious temple on the side. Two stories of mansion-like quality with a large balcony suited to fitting several dragons. All including a perfect overview of the city and the ocean reaching out towards the horizon. To the right, the Burnt Lands still lit up like a colossal bonfire, though from this distance it looked more like a gentle crackling fireplace.

Outside of this, Spyro's life was a routine, and while it certainly did have its ups, it could never compare to the normalish home he once had at the swamp. Even though Spyro's life was full and looked to be set, he couldn't help but feel something was missing. It wasn't friends, because even if he had plenty of fake friends, he did also a close group of true friends. He wasn't sure what this new sensation inside him was, but hoped in due time this unknown feeling would either fade or reveal itself.

The alleyway was coming to an end; light seeped around the corner as Spyro approached. Again, he sensed the unwavering glare behind him, more intense than any before. He twisted his head around rapidly, this time catching sight of a fleeting long, black tail disappearing around the corner.

 _Black tail…_

That one detail struck a chord with him yet he wasn't sure why. There weren't any wind dragons left in Warfang, unless they travelled in for the festival. Despite this potential conclusion, this tiny detail was still gnawing at him. He tried picturing the tail more clearly in his mind. He vaguely remembered catching a glimpse of a shiny, rounded shape with a nasty edge vanish behind the corner as well.

Was it mugger dressed in black with long spaghetti arms wielding a knife that fled when it realised it was spotted? Spyro shook his head clear of that ridiculous thought. The more he thought, the more it resembled…

" _Cynder?"_


	2. Out of the Shadows

Out of the Shadows

She never wanted to leave, but knew it was for the best; or so a voice in her head claimed. Upon those words she regrettably left, she spread her wings and faded into the black night sky without a word or sound. She hated not saying goodbye, she hated leaving so soon after they saved the world; but most of all...she hated not being there to act upon the words both heroes swore to each other.

But she couldn't ignore what she had to do, unless she risked becoming unstable and threatening the lives of those she cared dearly for. She only prayed that her beloved would understand her reason of absence, and that they both could continue on with their lives together. It was a lot to ask, but her reasons were found...weren't they?

* * *

She soared through the diamond-blue skies like a black phoenix, barely beating her wings as they sliced the air around her. While it wasn't hard to distinguish a black dragoness from amongst a crowd, she flew at such a height that only her shadowed silhouette could be seen from the ground. Why was she so high up? Well, apart from being a rare wind dragoness who's species normally soared higher than other elemental types, she also didn't want people to recognise who this mysterious stranger was. She wanted Spyro to be the first to know of her return.

While she had this part of the plan figured out, she hadn't the foggiest idea what would happen afterwards. Her mind was constantly focused on the many turns her first conversation with Spyro could take. Hundreds of questions swam through her crammed mind, yet she tried shoving those worrisome thoughts aside to create space for the explanation she would inevitably have to give. She kept breaking the speech she had in mind up and jumbling it up in the vain effort that her explanation sounded even plausible. Yet, another part of her believed that even ten years on, Spyro would understand and accept her just like he did many years ago. The last ten years were for him after all...

Her mind was a bubbling cauldron of worries and hopes, but lying at the bottom of that black basin, lurking like a phantom, laid a fear of rejection she refused to speak or think about. Yet it loomed there, waiting to surface and feast upon her petrified mind.

She skulked above the cheery crowds of Warfang's busiest road, lurking silently on the tall buildings. She had never seen such a positive sight, but in all honesty, she never had the opportunity. It settled her innards slightly to see Warfang fairing well.

'Day of Heroes' was a common phrase thrown about by the townsfolk, giving the black dragoness clear indication that a grand event was going on. Spyro once more faded into thought, for he was her hero after all. But while hundreds of voices spoke his name many times, none answered the question of where he was.

Cynder had a perfect overcast of the entire street, stretching from the endless steps on the right, to the graceful yet structurally-sound temple to the left, crafted by the greatest engineers Warfang had to offer. Beautiful, perfect arches overhung hollowed out windows, carved out of solid stone. Row upon row of chiseled brickwork were stacked flawlessly together like sturdy soldiers standing shoulder to shoulder. It was an important building regardless of what it was. She found herself entranced by the intricate designs of marble serpents winding up the tall pillars that stretched from foundation to roof.

She shook her head, she needed to focus on the goal at hand. She had to find one dragon in a city of them. But while it would have been easy to ask the locals, dark memories rooted into her head stopped this. She hadn't seen Warfang since the siege all so long ago; she knew the people were courageous and righteous, ready to defend their humble home from any ugly threat rearing their hideous head over the horizon. But how they would take to her sudden arrival remained a fearful mystery. Sure, she did help defend the city, and maybe without her it might have even fell. But at same time she was once the Terror of the Skies, the unholy offspring that casted a shadow that spread from one end of the continent to the other. For twelve years families hid, slowly awaiting the devouration of their lives either at her own claws or her apes. She even sought to bring back the Dark Master, and she succeeded... Too much blood had been spilt by her claws; she could never be forgiven for the thousands of innocent lives she had slain...yet maybe there was something she could do to balance that out, to prove that she was no longer the dark mistress everyone feared.

But even growing up, life seemed to be trying to find irony in this old fact as the years slowly ticked by; like Spyro, she had grown, resembling more and more like her adult form. Her body was larger and her once deceptively frail frame had increased in size, yet still hadn't lost it's elegant, sinious look. Her ivory horns had grown and curved inwards like walrus tusks. Her tail had also thickened and elongated, and the fearsome dagger on the tip had grown into a lethal sword, allowing for a deceiving and potentially fatal attack on an opponent only watching her claws; her tail's serpentine dexterity allowed her to utilise this weapon with deadly precision.

To make matters worse for unfortunate opponents, Cynder hadn't slouched in honing her combat skills in both elemental and close combat; combine that with her energetic youth and vast array of deadly weaponry and you've got a yourself a fighting machine. Few could match her amazing skill, even fewer could beat her.

She once more scanned the street with her sharp emerald eyes, seeking out the shining purple scales she longed for. But again, they turned up nothing. She decided to move onto the next street; there was no point lurking here like a shadow ape when there were plenty more streets to search. She had calculated that her best bet would be to linger around the upper class district of the city, for that was most likely where the more-popular celebrities lived.

But as she was about to spread her magenta wings, a speck of amethyst was caught in the corner of her inescapable eye. Her black head followed, turning towards the violet shape shifting further out of the temple.

There was no denying it, only one dragon could wear purple this good; Spyro. She froze like a deer in the headlight; ten years had passed, and her wait was finally over. What struck her the most was how different he was; grown up and noble looking. Yet underneath this young-adult exterior, she could see right through to the young, innocent, and noble heart she fell in love with.

She stared watching, rigid as a statue as this character wandered closer...he was coming her way. Feelings of thunderstruck and speechlessness rushed through her body in it's miniature conquest of ruining this moment. For a long trawling moment she could only watch. Why was she acting so stupid?

She growled to herself. She would never speak to him if she was to act crazy now; she needed to compose herself. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep, relieving breaths. She calmly read through her mind, word for word, her plan. She would catch up to him and talk to him….act calm, approach him alone, and just...talk to him.

She opened her eyes, and he was gone.

Her bewildered mind panicked, she couldn't let him escape. Cynder stumbled across the dirty rooftops, her clumsy footsteps thankfully masked by the chattering crowds. She charged like a black horse, leaping from building to building. She reached the edge of the final structure and barely stopped herself from careering over the edge, sending off small chunks of debris flying off the side.

She spotted the mythical, purple dragon below. She could make out the grooves and patterns marked into his skin, the different shades of purple now gleaming towards her, tempting her to come closer and embrace their gorgeous colours. But the alluring scales were matched by the growing apprehension of Cynder's nerves, creating a transparent barrier between her and him.

She then noticed Spyro slip into the alleyway - this was it: Spyro was isolating himself. Cynder's anxiety picked up another notch as she quietly tiptoed along the rooftop, she didn't know where he was going but she didn't care. She needed to steel her confidence and just get it over with. The sooner she did this, the quicker she could get over her insecurity.

Deep inside, she was hating herself. She was never usually this edgy, even on the brink of death she was calm and accepting; but why was it so hard to just do this one simple task? Was it the fact she didn't have anyone to support her through this? Or that the feeling of the unknown inside her had left open hundreds of doors, hundreds of possibilities of how this scenario could turn out...some of them not good?

She forced those burdening worries away again and stole an extensive glance at Spyro. He paused. She knew he was going to turn, but even then her mind hesitated. Spyro turned his head towards her almost mechanically, and despite knowing what was coming Cynder still gave a strangled yelp and dove behind the low wall. She prayed he didn't see her acting so cowardly. She remained silent like a shadow, waiting for the familiar footsteps to resume. Eventually they did; the sound of scratching claws grew duller as the purple dragon wandered on.

Cynder's frantic curiosity bested her once more as she peered over the edge, the purple dragon turning yet another winding corner. She decided once more she needed to get it over with or risk going insane.

When Spyro was safely around, she pushed herself up and over the wall and landed silently on the dis-jointed concrete. Then almost like she was walking on air, she hustled towards the corner.

She peaked around, being careful not to make the drake too wary. A rogue thought drifted into her head. " _God, why am I being such a stalker…"_

She mentally abused herself and whipped her rationality back into discipline. She was going to step out and call his name, then just let it happen...just let it happen.

She was prepared, all her fears were pushed back behind a thick wall of confidence. Nothing was going to stop her now. She narrowed her eyes and took one assuring step. Her sight was on him, not because of who he is, but because he was her target. The black dragoness took another step around the corner.

Then he turned around without warning.

The dam in Cynder's head broke apart and flooded her mind with doubt. Instantly, like a dog who's paw got trodden on she reared up and made a complete U-turn and fled. She twisted with such aggression and panic her tail swung around the corner and almost hit the wall before disappearing with her around the corner. She sprinted down the alleyway, paying little heed to the tightness of the corridor as she followed the sharp corners. Eventually she stopped at a dead end, believing she escaped her situation.

The black dragoness then tended to her irrational breathing and frantic nerves, regaining her composure and easing herself into a calmer state. When her breathing became more regulated, she set upon the dark path of abusing herself for her incompetence. " _Stupid, Cynder. Why are you making this so goddamn difficult."_ She let out a frustrated snarl. " _I can't do this; or at least not this way."_

She then thought calmly to herself, trying to craft together an idea that would dig her out of this self-inflicted predicament. It was crystal clear that trying to approach him out of the blue wasn't working, and trying to throw herself at him would be even worse. But what if he was to approach her? No, she quickly shook her head, that was just as bad. Unless…

Unless he approached on her terms. It wasn't the most comfortable plan she had come up with, but it was far better than walking across the bed of nails towards him without a warning would be, for then at least Spyro would be able to prepare as well, making it easier for both of them.

She left the shadows of the alleyway and took to the beautiful blue skies, and while she did attract a few odd looks, she didn't stick around long enough for them to question it.

* * *

 _Dear Spyro,_

 _I know it has been a while, perhaps even too long. But I am back and long to speak to you. Meet me at the Twilight Forest, under the great waterfall at sunset._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Cynder_

Three simple sentences on an old, tattered page she had found lying forgotten on the ground; was that all it took to break the ten year silence? She had 'borrowed' a pencil dropped on the floor by an occupied vendor and had found a discarded pile of paper left abandoned behind one of the square buildings.

She had lost count of how many times she had rewritten the same note, changing minor details like where and when she wanted to meet, spelling mistakes, even resetting when a flick on one of the curved letters went horribly wrong. It also didn't help that she was large and had to write incredibly tiny to fit all her writing on this mole-sized page. But still she persisted; to her, this had to be perfect.

Eventually, she did produce a letter that satisfied her annoyingly high expectations. She had chosen the most beautiful location she could think of, at perhaps the most dazzling time, and her handwriting was spot on. Now she just had to get it to him...

But how could she get it to him if she now doesn't know where he is or where he goes? She tried thinking, and vaguely remembered Spyro talking to a mole, and while most moles did blend in amongst each other, this particular one stuck out like a light in the dark. His crisp, little, bright-red suit perfectly fitted the mole, clearly indicating it had been sized and styled specifically for the person.

While Cynder could've easily mistaken him as just a friend Spyro talks to, there was something about the way they were talking that indicated something more formal. Perhaps if she could drop the letter in on him, he would give it to Spyro…

* * *

She had done it, after sneaking through one of the small, arched windows thanks to her shadow element. She tracked the sharply dressed mole down and hid the letter on the ground just ahead the furry, black creature. But the fixated mole was so focused on his endless list he didn't even notice the letter until he fat-footedly trod on it, annoying the black dragoness in the process. The mole looked down and saw the tattered note, now wrinkled by his carelessness. He grumbled something incoherent before picking the note up and briefly skimming through the contents nosely. "Bah, another love note…When will they ever learn?" He stuffed the piece of paper amongst a collection of others in his over-filled pocket.

Cynder growled jealousy to herself. Who were these other dragonesses, to think they can try and steal _her_ Spyro away from her?

But the deed was done, the letter had been delivered. Satisfied that she had done all she could, she once more snuck out of the glorious temple and headed up into the turquoise skies towards the beautiful lands of Avalar. The amber sun had started declining, in a few hours it will meet the horizon and end another cycle of daylight. Then, she will unite with him _._ All she had to do...was wait.

 **Hi all, hope you all enjoyed chapter two of this small story, if you have any questions relating to this story or Beliefs of Liars feel free to message me.**

 **Until I upload the next chapter,**

 **WhiteWingedFox**


	3. The Guardian's Daughter

The Guardian's Daughter

For fifteen years she had lived away from the chaos and destruction, her egg conceived in Warfang but moved across the vast ocean with her mother to avoid the worst of the wars. She was raised in a fortified college, one specialised in training and raising the guardian candidates for most cities in the world. It was located on a remote and lush island, surrounded by its own small, humble city in which her mother now lived as well. But upon hearing the news of her father's sacrifice, she made haste for the mainland, and despite pleading to her mother to come, she was simply too upset in her clouded mind to make the journey herself. Solaria had to make the journey on her own.

The young dragoness spent many long days and nights flying across the ever changing landscape. Though eventually, the distant marble city of myth and legend - Warfang - appeared like dawn on the encircling horizon.

Solaria originally planned on only staying a few days, just long enough to hopefully get over the worst of the inevitable sadness before making her way back home. The celebrated guardians proudly welcomed her into their famous and magnificent temple. She had met them many times before during her visits to her father, but they were usually distracted by their work, so they never really interacted. However, the event meant she got to experience a side of their hidden personality not known to many - grief.

She did wonder what would become of her though since the passing of her father; would she be named the next guardian on the spot? Or would a temporary dragon be given that honourable title while she finished her training? While it did come across as arrogant, she was certain she could get the position; it was not a case of skill. The title of guardianship is a birthright given to the first-born of the current guardian. But if they fail to produce a heir or are stripped of their honor, then a replacement is found.

But due to the abruptness of such a sad passing, the guardians agreed with Solaria's consent and the college that she would be made the new fire guardian in the coming weeks and spend the next few years slowly filling the gaps of her education and training in Warfang.

The day came; while the sun was shining gloriously and carelessly above on its astral throne, the mood was far from pleasant. A large sombre crowd gathered in the temple's hall as a red, velvet overlay was pulled off a decorated monument. A noble statue, depicting the wisdom and leadership that was Ignitus was revealed. While the stone effigy did capture the image of the fire guardian, it annoyed Solaria that obvious details were either missing or incorrect; where there should've been fins shaped like flames on the tail, instead a bland grey worm replaced it. However, it did still soothe her to see such a worthy and admired dragon get the memorial he deserved.

The day was silent, only the whistling wind that blew faintly past the crowd was audible. One by one, fuzzy moles, scarred dragons and an assortment of other creatures approached the near-perfect headstone and placed their hands and claws upon the quartz stone surface. Each gave their farewells and wishes to the late guardian, a final goodbye even though some never even met the legend himself.

The crowd slowly trickled out of the temple as the hot afternoon wore on, allowing Solaria space to move around the cramped room and approach the obscured statue. When she did approach, she saw a young character the same age as her with a very distinct, violet scale colour, a dragon she had heard off from her father himself - Spyro.

Unlike the other creatures, who were being escorted out the temple by the guards, Spyro lingered with his slumping head aimed at the smooth ground. She had heard of their special relationship. While on paper they were only a mentor and student, deep down she knew they were more like a father and son. She could only imagine what her father's passing meant to him.

He was young, and to have such a deep grasp of what death was at only fifteen was a sad sight. Regardless, she knew she was going to get well-acquainted with him through the coming years. Had the situation been more light-hearted, she would've more than likely fawned over him like an idiot. She approached quietly and joined his side.

Spyro noticed his silent void interrupted by this unknown dragoness. There was something about her that was mysterious...yet familiar. He turned his head towards her.

Solaria offered the purple dragon a sincere smile, which he briefly returned before returning back to his null mind of subconsciousness.

Solaria looked up towards the majestic, prominent memorial, and spoke, "If you want to see him again, then all you've got to do is look up." Those were her words first to him. What followed was an innocent and heartwarming conversation as both dragons got to know each other and share their tales.

From there the years ticked by, and both rapidly became best friends. Spyro was quickly shoved into his new celebrity life, and Solaria was kept busy by her new duties as fire guardian and training gifted by the other elemental guardians; while both were occupied by their new-found roles they always found time to spend in each-other's company.

Solaria's affection for the purple dragon developed into a crush; his willingness to help and ability to shrug off annoyances had won her heart, but each time she tried to show her affection, it was met with an uncomfortable silence and aversion.

Six years it took, because Spyro's love for Cynder refused to fade like an inextinguishable fire; yet this unscalable mountain did not faze the fire dragoness. Each time she tried, she could feel this substantial blockade weaken; when finally one night, the dam came crashing down.

The glistening stars lined the night like specks of bright heaven. The air was silent as glass. The two dragons were gazing longingly, losing each other in the shine of each other's eyes. Their minds grew empty as only thoughts of each other surfaced. The compelling urge to make another push was too hard for the fire-red dragoness to resist once again. She slowly closed her eyes and moved her head towards his.

This time, Spyro didn't back away. His desire to find Cynder had breathed its last breathe, and the candle flame was extinguished. Their temples met, almost like the scene played out in slow motion. But underneath this quiet seal of love, an eruption of emotions collided in a spectacular explosion of romance.

The contact was long and drawn out, but neither cared. Solaria's love had finally pierced the veil of darkness cloaking Spyro's heart, and Spyro had finally found something to fill that void within him.

At first they tried keeping their relationship a secret, only known to a few (Sparx was practically windswept with relief. He actually feared that one day the Terror of the Skies would return and be the one to get her grubby claws on Spyro). The guardians naturally also gave their blessing. But soon people caught wind of their relationship and Spyro once more became the unfortunate centre of attention.

While many reasonable ladies gave up their sightless endeavour, the more crazed girls would come in their hordes. Plus paparazzi were always around the corner with their notepads and pens, looking to get his 'magical' words written down. Security at the temple was beefed up to meet demands of fanatical citizens but even then they often struggled. Each time Spyro stepped out was like throwing a steak to a pack of hungry lions. To make matters worse, Spyro's daily chores took a blow to, instantly increasing in hecticness as plenty of families muscled their money in to buy Spyro's time.

At first, Solaria was hugely concerned at the amount of females desperate to steal her Spyro. She would often stare them down with searing intensity or intervene if she saw one attempting to make a move. But even then, she soon realised she didn't have to be so protective. She constantly saw Spyro was more irritated than charmed by these stupid dragonesses and would push them to one side.

Overall, while their relationship was rocky, they did their best to keep it afloat, but eventually the growing pressure got to them - and they became eternal mates. Two years into their relationship and Solaria finally asked the question, and Spyro...after a painful few moments silence… replied with a yes. The city erupted in applause. Word spread like wildfire across the city.

The wedding day came and more than one distressed damsel tried to crash the glorious party, held at the very temple, excellently decorated in glorious deep purple and sunset red. It was a day marked in history (one of which Ignitus enjoyed immensely writing himself).

Another year later and Solaria had moved in with Spyro in his deluxe mansion. Things had stabilized. Solaria had become a fully fledged guardian and was enjoying every moment of it, while Spyro still had his same old job. He wished he could do something better, but it paid well and to be honest...there was not much else he could with his limited skillset.

But perhaps their most treasured moment, one that Spyro agreed was his greatest achievement...was when Solaria gave birth to the egg of their first born son.

When the egg hatched nine months later, they named this new part of their lives Ignirius; the inspiration was meaningful to both, if a bit obvious.

Of course, the city went mad again, this was practically the same as a royal baby being born. This innocent bundle of scales was a blessing to the two parents as they welcomed the adorable hatchling into a world recreated by his very own father.

Cut three months later Solaria's world was practically perfect. She had honoured her father's name, she had a loving father and husband, and now her very own son; who she knew already would do great things in this world.

However, over the last few years, she had noticed a change in Spyro. It was subtle and concealed at first, but over the last few years she noticed a shift in Spyro's personality. He often had episodes of becoming distant or would lapse happiness,. He would often spend time alone staring at the flickering stars. Despite this slight worry, Solaria simply concluded it was just sad memories of losing Ignitus and Cynder, as he would also break away from this temporary depression when a cheerful event was going on. He would also often complain about his work and wished he could do something better, but again she thought this was something all working people did. In the end, Spyro would always break out of this phase, and as such Solaria never worried.

* * *

The streets were packed: hundreds of colourful yet hastily-constructed stalls squabbled over space and other silly things. Armies of credulous moles and dragons already flocked to said stalls looking to get the best 'exotic' and unusual objects from distant locations.

Stuck in the midst of this rumbling scrum, Solaria treaded carefully to avoid the cannonballing moles. She missed the young days when crowded streets didn't serve as furry minefields. But at the same time, being bigger did have its perks, for it meant most creatures got out of her way.

The guardians knew this was a special day for both Solaria and Spyro, and as such gave Solaria the day off (although unfortunately they could not do the same for Spyro). Tonight they always dined under the stars at their favourite exquisite restaurant, and tomorrow they would watch the wondrous display of lights and explosions brighten the dark night. It had become their regular yet spectacular ritual each year.

Her baby, who she normally nurtured throughout the day, even during the working hours and private guardian meetings, was being cared for by their personal babysitter, which allowed today to be about her.

She was currently sweeping the streets, searching for a new piece of jewelry to adorn and add to her fabled collection. She wanted to stun Spyro tonight, try and steal his breath away and restore the loving gaze she lusted for ever since Spyro's most recent depressive episode.

Stall after stall she explored, but all were filled with either shoddy craftsmanship or phoney goods. That was until her gaze was cast upon one stall in particular. A woven canopy infused with sunflower yellow and snowy stripes caught her eye. Beneath that, a dull pine table clothed in a pure white blanket stood with only its rough-cut legs poking out from the bottom. An elderly female mole, with silvery long hair to contrast her short black fur sat and watched like an endearing angel, offering strangers gentle smiles. She rested on a bright, pine rocking chair, a wooden cane in hand planted on the ground in front of her. But while these details did add up to only a humble - if a bit monotone - image, there was an item on the table that shone like a star - it was a diamond in the rough. Inside a solitary glass container, a silvery-coloured necklace presented itself. Two thin bands of platinum were soldered in the middle by melted gold, forming a half crescent, the thickest part being the centre. The most prominent feature was the dual violet-purple sapphires that were planted in equal distance from the centre of the lustrous bands. A silver chain was hooked on at one end and a catch on the other, indicating this was the locking mechanism designed to keep the alluring neckpiece on. Solaria was surprised such a beautiful necklace was still for sale.

There was something about it that drew her in; maybe it was the simple yet elegant authenticity of it. To add to this unusual calling, it was the thing currently on display and looked to be perfectly designed to fit her; it was as if fate guided her there. She chuckled quietly to herself at this silly possibility.

She approached the stand, where the elderly mole's gaze followed her movements with unseen anticipation.

"Good afternoon, madam," she started politely, "I was browsing the stalls, and couldn't help but admire the piece in the cabinet there. Did you make it yourself?"

The mole remained silent, instead gently shaking her head side to side without changing her expression. She then leaned her stick upon the table and reached towards a small metal chest to the side on the floor. She lifted the lid and pulled a small, thick piece of paper from inside and shown it to Solaria.

It was a portrait sketch of a mole wearing a scruffy white shirt and trousers, accompanied by a leather apron. He was happily toiling away on a black smoking forge with a blackened hammer in hand. It was clear he was a blacksmith.

"Is that your son? Did he make this?"

The mole's smile cracked even wider, and replied with a simple nod of her black, furry head.

Solaria couldn't help but return the smile. It had become apparent to the red dragoness that this mole couldn't speak, or chose not to. She proceeded onto the purchase of the fine jewelry. "How much for the necklace?"

The mole calmly extended forward from her seat and tapped the brittle glass twice. Solaria's gaze followed the direction and next to the glistening platinum, a tag was attached. She squinted closer, struggling to read the tiny writing.

"Two-hundred gems?" she called out in disbelief. Despite the loudness of her outcry, the hullabaloo around muffled it's affects. She shot her jaw-dropped gaze back to the unconcerned mole, who merely shrugged back.

Solaria secluded herself to her thoughts. On the one hand, this was definitely a beautiful piece, and certainly not a fake; on top of that, she just knew Spyro would love it...but on the other, this was almost twice the amount she thought it was worth, she could buy dinner for four at an expensive restaurant for the same amount. She raised her head back up to match the mole's black, reflective eyes; yet they remained neutral. The fact that she wasn't pressuring the dragoness didn't help, as it didn't create much of an impression that she was open for bartering.

"Is there a way we can lower the price? I mean it's a beautiful piece, don't get me wrong, but is it really worth two-hundred…?"

Still the mole didn't move.

"How about one hundred gems?"

For a moment the elderly mole thought about it. It only took seconds for the mole's calculated mind to reach a conclusion. She reached once more into the chest beside her and withdraw a tan notepad and flint pencil. She hastily wrote something down before revealing it.

"One Hundred And Seventy Five...final offer." She read aloud. It was a start, but Solaria was still unsure. A part of her wanted to refuse and walk away, yet another part was lured by the reflective platinum, and telling her she should buy it.

She gave in, her uncertainty gave way as she spoke a single word. "Deal."

The mole nodded in delight. She hobbled onto her little, pink feet and stepped forwards towards the glass case. She removed the backboard and carefully removed the necklace and placed it guardingly upon the top.

Solaria gripped the heavy leather purse from around her neck and undid the string. Inside, a series of different coloured gems sparkled like a crystal rainbow. She pulled out seven deep purple crystals and forked them over to the old lady. The grand mole scooped the crystals into her small hands and deposited into the same chest as before. Finally, she turned around and indicated to the larger dragoness to take the jewelry, to which she did.

She did spend a lot more here than she intended, almost all she had with her at the time, but it would be worth it in the end to see Spyro's eyes on her once more. She was content, because all she now needed to do was find a gift for her beloved. Surely it was fine to go a little over her personal limit this time when her intentions were good.

Once more she mingled into the crowds, setting off to find the perfect present.

 **Hey all, sorry it took a while to get next chapter up, been busy and got stuck at one point in the chapter. Hopefully you all still enjoy it though as much as I enjoy writing them.**

 **Until next time.**


	4. Chasing Tails

Chasing Tails

Time had snuck up on Spyro like a creeping shadow. He lingered amongst the familiar, out-of-the-way shops he regularly visited, trying to postpone the inevitable return back to his loathsome job. But no amount of whimsical hope could wish it away as he dragged his apathetic legs back towards the distant temple.

But while he strolled on, the elusive, troubling image from earlier still saundered around his head, almost laughing at his questioning. The shape was too familiar to be a trick of the mind, yet his conscious knew better than to believe it was Cynder. She vanished long ago, never to be seen again; that was a bitter fact he forced himself to accept regardless of how much it pained his anguished heart.

As such, this situation sat on inconclusive ground. But if he could just get another tiny glimpse of that tail, he was certain he could find the answer; though for now, that lingering mystery would have to wait. Spyro stood before the grand temple grounds, his agent standing anticipatively in the looming entrance.

Spyro forced the thought out of his conscious, even though it sat mischievously on the side lines of his mind. He prepared himself for yet another exhaustive round of most-money-gets-Spyro, the one game he found least appealing.

Though he yearned to do something else, the purple drake was trying to keep to his word. He listened intently as the agent rambled on, running his pink, sparsely-haired digit down his brown, accursed list once more. But even then, he found his adventurous mind wandering once more to the land of dreams, imagining lands only heard in stories: frozen rainforests blanketed in thundering snowstorms heard overhead, vast mountain ranges where ravines dip endlessly like black voids of nothingness. There were so many mysteries heard of only in fragmented tales, so many possibilities left undiscovered on this plane of adventure. For some reason, these thoughts brought happiness to the dragon…

With Spyro once indulged in his dreams and the mole delving deeper into his list, blabbering out monotone information that fell on deaf ears, both failed to notice the other party heading in their direction. Two adults dragonesses fixated on their joyful conversation took up most of the wide corridor.

Almost in comedic fashion, one of the dragoness' talons raised up and practically kicked the poor mole. The agent briefly left the ground, his overpacked pockets exploding in a kerfuffle of differently coloured paper.

Spyro instantly broke out of his spell and stared concernedly at the unfortunate mole. Even the dragonesses silenced their happy conversation to check they didn't accidently crush the hapless, black mole...far too many innocent moles had been flattened under foot. It's a surprise bubble shoes or something along those lines hadn't been invented yet for dragons.

But thankfully for the three dragons, the dazed mole had not been pancaked, only severely winded. For the moment he was more than happy just to lay there and let the air refill his wheezing lungs. Seeing that his agent was still three dimensional, Spyro breathed a sigh of relief. The dragonesses profusely apologised, realising they were within inches of mole slaughter.

Spyro couldn't help but notice out of the corner of his lilac eye a scrap piece of paper amongst the colourful mess. He turned his head towards the note so he could better see it. It was more obvious than a golem that it was a love letter. While Spyro tended to avoid dabbling in these type of things, the shoddy quality of the note made him realise that who ever wrote it was from a less fortunate background. The least he could do for the poor girl was read it.

He picked the scruffy, crumpled page in his talons and began mentally reading.

 _Dear Spyro,_

 _I know it has been a while, perhaps even too long. But I am back and long to speak to you. Meet me at the Twilight Forest, under the great waterfall at sunset._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Cynder_

His claws grew stiff, his eyes wide like discs. He blinked once and reread the entire note again, word for word. This time his talons trembled. A transparent wall separated him to his own solitary universe, the other beings unaware of the earth-shattering realization that had just transpired.

The mischievous image once more popping into sight. This time though, a crystal-clear insight to the identity of the spaghetti-armed bandit was provided - Cynder.

An eruption of thoughts surged through his mind like a blizzard. There he stood frozen, numb from the knowledge that she was back. A candle light, long since doused, flickered from within his heart, a cindering ember was coaxed, growing from the possibility of seeing her again. He needed to see her, to make sure this fantasy was not just that. Even if the note specified at sunset, he had to know now.

He did, however, not forget about the grumbling mole, who was muttering about the tiny specks of dust clinging to his velvet suit jacket. This incident would certainly put a dampener on his mood but Spyro didn't care; he had discovered something far more important than a silly agenda and a red suit.

His agent did notice the dragon standing impatiently, nearly bouncing from one talon to the other. He recognised the tatty paper grasped firmly in his clenched, purple claw.

"What?" he blabbered, "What is it now?"

Unhesitantly, Spyro spoke hastily, "This note was written by Cynder!" It almost sounded like a hurried squeak, but the mole still heard and understood.

His features softened, he briefly forgotten about his snazzy suit and questioned further. "By Cynder? The one that disappeared years ago? That Cynder?"

Spyro sharply inclined his head.

The mole scrambled his head, going down a mental list of all the names he new sounded similar to Cynder like he was reading one of his agendas. Cindy, Sam, Cyril and more passed by his scanning brain, yet no other Cynder; obviously Spyro was talking about _that_ Cynder.

More importantly, he knew the significance of this, and the importance it held to the drake, so he would never lie about it, even if it meant getting out of posing stiffly for two hours for a painting... The poor dragon had spent six years looking for her after all before giving up, nearly a third of his life wasted on one dragoness.

As such, the mole was willing to let the dragon go this once. The mole was tough, but he wasn't cruel.

"Then what are you waiting for? Get going!"

Spyro's face lit up like a christmas tree, his desperate, amethyst eyes widening in exhilaration. Never had the mole seen the purple drake so happy, it was like seeing a little child get his first bike for their birthday.

The mole's logic was split two ways. On the one hand, he knew better than most of Spyro's depression, having seen it first hand and knowing what a pain it was to deal with when working. Having a happy Spyro though would make him far easier to work with, and in return would make his job far easier and increase revenue for the both of them. On the other hand, he generally cared for the dragon's well being despite his professionalism, as such disregarding the rest of the day, let alone an hour was his way of showing it. It was like he constantly said: he was tough, but was willing to make exceptions if the situation called for it.

Despite telling him he could go, the purple drake still waited like an obedient dog. It was as if underneath this thick layer of excitement, a swirling black core of hesitation was present.

"Why are you still here? Get out of here already."

Spyro, who realised he was standing around like an idiot even after being told twice he could go, performed an ungraceful one-eighty and scampered back across the long hall. The agent stood proud with his short arms placed on his hip. Everything about the mole was precise...even his posture.

The two dragonesses were baffled beyond belief; what started as a near worrisome end to the mole finished with the victims smiling and completely ignoring them. They could only exchange glances and watch as the purple dragon dashed down the hall.

* * *

Adrenaline kept the purple dragon going, regardless of how much he punished his aching wings. He didn't even slow down to admire the majestic views of Avalar below. He didn't get to visit here very often, but each time he did it was a breath of crisp, clean air in his polluted life of stress.

Even in the last ten years, even when the world around it changed and adapted, Avalar and it's inhabitants remained the same. The same calm wind blew as it did a decade ago, the old oak trees only grown and sowed their seeds, and the river still carved the same path through the valley. The cheetahs led the same lifestyle and traditions, following the way of the Four Winds just as their ancestors before had. They grew food and mostly fended for themselves, being a mostly solitary village.

They did, however, become more hospitable to their dragon neighbors since the war, even the now ironically named Forbidden Passage was converted into a trade route; it was reconstructed and expanded to allow trade convoys safe passage through to the valley. But it wasn't just the dragons that the cheetahs tolerated better; they had even welcome an ape gypsy convoy into the village. The poor souls were shunned for what their brethren did, travelling from place to place until they stumbled across a place they could call home. The apes soon learnt and adopted the Cheetah way, blending in and becoming a part of Avalar.

There was something about Avalar that appealed to all, whether that be the blissful breeze for dragons to glide upon, the soft green grass for the moles to admire or even the welcoming residents in the apes' case. There was something so warm and safe about the place, a resemblance of home for all...except Spyro.

Do not mistake the purple dragon's disgruntlement for unappreciativeness; Spyro loved Avalar, he loved the bright cheery colours, the flowing, crystal water, and even the little specks of plant matter that occasionally floated by. He would quite happily settle down there and watch the world drift by for the rest of his life. However, there was something deep within his soul that could not be filled with this false satisfaction.

He was hunting something he had lost, even though he didn't realise he was searching for it.

While he flew though, it gave him an opportunity to think about the other female who has had a significant impact in his life...Solaria. How would she react, would she greet Cynder with open arms, or a twinge of jealousy? Regardless, nothing would ever change between him Solaria, they were mated for life, his heart belonged to her and her alone. Cynder would just be a very good friend in the end.

Spyro stood at the base of the great waterful; the roaring water gushed over the edge in its tons of trickling drops, crashing down into the river that flowed through the Twilight Forest. Despite the broad daylight, the sparse ebony leaves on the silver-birch trees created a quiet night time atmosphere. Purple fireflies fluttered unhindered through the air letting off a violet hue that coaxed the area in lights and cast faint shadows on the deep-purple grass.

Spyro's facial features were between grinning doofus and agitated apprehension. He twisted his head to the side, trying to find anything that remotely resembled a black, sleek dragoness with a bladed tail (this detail stuck with him like glue because it was the only thing he saw of the elusive female). But there was no movement apart from the swaying grass and rustling leaves.

For a short while Spyro just waited, gradually inwardly panicking at the fact that she wasn't here. He had completely forgotten she specifically said sunset, which was a distant few hours away. He twisted his head from side to side, making dead certain he hadn't missed her. She definitely said to be here...but where was she?!

"Cynder!?" A single word escaped his throat. Once more he turned his head, seeking a reaction to the name...but nothing.

His hope faded fast like a weathered gravestone, his belief in her returning dying once more.

A few isolated minutes passed. Spyro lowered his gaze to the ground and let out a defeated sigh. Why did he let himself get so hopeful? Of course this was just a cruel prank played out by some vengeful being.

With misery as his friend, Spyro turned to leave. Unbeknownst to him, a few dark wisps leaked off his body like fletching feathers…

He was Fate's fool for thinking she would be here, that she would actually hear her name being called from a thousand miles away...

* * *

...But she had heard…

She heard her name clearer than glass, and she feared it. The fact Spyro was here now meant he certainly got the note, and knew that she was here.

Cynder was hiding amongst the rocky outcrop at the top the waterfall. The roaring water cascaded around her as she spied on the purple speck disappearing behind the bottom tier of the waterfall.

Her tail flickered skittishly, her talons clattering impatiently on the wet stony surface. The water splashing on her hide did irritate her, but she had bigger issues on her mind…

'Why is he here now?' That question led the assault on her cranium. She still hadn't prepared for the destined encounter.

A few tantalizing moments passed, unable to see the drake. She leaned forward and extended her neck over the edge. She could just see a few rigid wing movements but she needed more...

Cynder then felt her head suddenly dip down as she realised she'd accidently overextended. In a panicked reaction, she pushed her wings out and back-peddled like a startled cat. She breathed a sigh of thankful relief and more carefully approached the slippery edge.

Then she heard it, a voice seeking her name. The word hung on the air as it echoed on the mountain behind. She froze like a deer in the headlight. Had she been spotted; did Spyro spot her embarrassing blunder? However, there were no pair of piercing, purple eyes appearing from below. He didn't know she was there...he didn't know she was there. That worrying thought strayed into her mind, setting off another chain of worries that carried on for several minutes.

What if he leaves? What if then after any future notes would be believed as lies? She stared over the perilous ledge once more. To her horror, her nightmare was becoming a dreaded reality. Spyro was attempting to leave.

She was about to just let him leave again. Her throat was clogged with dryness and suffocating anticipation, an unending void of agonizing torment that refused to dissipate. But Cynder refused to be beaten once more. A single beam of heavenly light struck through the thick veil and shone upon her unheard desire. The golden glow served as a gullet, allowing her voice to burst from within.

"Spyro!"

The purple dragon turned his hung head towards the sky behind. High above, like a heroine standing above the rest, he saw her.

The ten year search was over.

Spyro remained stiff and motionless, caught between uncertain doubt and a surrealistic dream. He dared not move, fearing he would shatter this fragile moment, that any slight attempt would undo this muddled reverie.

Cynder too, was caught in the web of stunned paralysis. There was no escape now; her veil of concealment has been pierced and the truth flooded out like the Twilight Falls. Even from this distant perch, she could see the empty expression plastered on his face, but even then she couldn't see past his glaring eyes.

Despite this, Cynder felt the doubt from before dragged out of her, replaced with a reassuring warmness. Now that the initial wall had been broken down, she had the confidence to confront her fear and approach the purple dragon once more.

Spyro watched as the black dragoness leapt off the soaked platform, her midnight form soaring down to greet him.

She landed only a mere few metres away, now standing on the same even grass as her beloved. A nervous smile overtook her maw. However, Spyro still stood thunderstruck, emotionless as his intense eyes were still. This was enough to put her back on edge, what was going through his mind.

Spyro knew this was all real, but he hadn't gotten over the disbelief of the scenario presented forth. However, this did not stop him from speaking. "Cyn-Cynder?" His voice was dry. He raised a shaky paw, unsure whether to step closer.

Cynder's heartfelt smile returned. "Hey…" She understood his confusion, and she wanted to remove it. She raised onto her hind legs and placed two claws around Spyro's lavender neck; then brought her cheek to his and nuzzled affectionately.

For a moment Spyro didn't say anything, instead, accepting this caring gesture. She looked so much older, so much different, yet her voice betrayed her identity. She was the same dragoness that vanished ten years ago, and she was back. Her action struck a chord in his heart, which sent a message to his mind. A single question was shoved into the limelight. A welling sadness built up within Spyro as he gently removed himself from the dragoness's embrace.

Cynder was surprised by this cold reaction. Her smile faded as she stared at him, a puzzled look masked upon her features. She noticed a sorrowful frown placed on his face, his head hanging limply.

"Where did you go, Cynder?" A hint of betrayal tugged at his voice as he refused to look at her.

The question hit her like a punch to the stomach, yet she tried remaining spirited. "I had to go, but I am back."

Spyro looked up with a pained look as Cynder realised how tactless her answer was. "But why...what was so important that you couldn't tell me?"

She too fell into a depressive state, there was no way this reunion will go happily until the elephant was dealt with. She decided the truth needed to be exposed.

Cynder turned her head towards him. "Spyro...I was summoned by the Chronicler."

Spyro was notably surprised by this. "The chronicler? Why would he need you. but he ever summons-"

"-In times of great despair, I know. But at first I didn't know either, not until I found him at least. And when I did...well."

"Well what?"

A faint smile formed on Cynder's face. "Spyro...Ignitus is the chronicler!"

Spyro's maw dropped. "What?!" He repeated.

"When a new age starts, a new Chronicler is chosen to record all the events of each year. After you saved the world, Ignitus was chosen to be that new Chronicler."

Spyro was speechless, stuttering over his words as dozens of sentences tried forcing their way out of his mouth. "But-He-How? He died. I was there! You were there."

"I couldn't believe it either, I was just as amazed as you were."

Once more, Spyro tried saying something, but he closed his mouth when he realised how futile words on this subject were. He instead opted back to the original subject at hand. "But why would he need you?"

Cynder deeply sighed, she didn't have a ticket out of the question. Dark recollections seeped into her mind, memories of old times when she was a murderous puppet. But a memory from a more recent time clawed its way to the top with it's venomous nails. The time when Malefor once more twisted her doubtful mind and turned her against Spyro in their final clash.

"Spyro, when we defeated Malefor, when he turned me against you, it made me realise something far more terrifying that even then end of the world…"

Spyro noticed the fear etched into her tone. His features softened slightly as he realized this was not easy for her to answer.

"When you freed me from Malefor's grasp the very first time, I thought that was it. I thought I was free, to do things of my own will, that I would never have to worry about the darkness returning. But I was wrong, Spyro. So...so...wrong. Malefor took control of me and made me realise that the darkness never left. Malefor made me fear the beast that I could become at any moment, and it only worsened when Ignitus contacted me… He told me that Malefor had planted something inside me, a fail-safe should his plan fail, and that unless something was done it would swallow me back in, twist and change me back into that evil abomination, that would threaten once more threaten the realm. That was why I had to leave." Cynder could feel the tears form in the corner of her emerald eyes, but she did her best to remain strong.

The feelings of betrayal disappeared like smoke in Spyro's heart. Instead, replaced with feelings of guilt and worry. Having to constantly deal with that kind of horror himself, he knew of the fearful and crippling effects it can have. "Cyn...I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me? If I knew I could have helped, you know I would've done anything for you."

Cynder could feel the unfeigned words, which only reminded her of her sadness she strongly felt when she left. However, she reminded herself of her reason. Sure it was painful, but now they can live together in blissful love.

"I'm sorry, Spyro...but this was one battle I had to face alone. If Ignitus could, he would have allowed you to come. But for the past ten years, Ignitus had been helping me. He said the magic Malefor placed on me was imbedded deep, but with time it could be removed." She beamed, bittersweet tears still filled her eyes. "Don't you see, Spyro. I'm finally cured."

Spyro too, was smiling now. He could finally put to bed the questions, and more importantly, she was back and here to stay. Teardrops slipped free from his iris and dripped onto the warm grass.

Happy sobs escaped both dragon's throats as they wrapped up in each other's claws, eyes closed and only feeling the gentle warmth of each other's bodies. Scaly cheeks nuzzled up against each other as the years apart seem to just fall away.

Cynder felt that she could finally pop the question she had been holding onto.

"Spyro, I know I was gone for a long time, but...will you accept me as your mate?"

Spyro's eyes widened, and distraughtly removed himself once more from the hug. Cynder was understandably surprised, looking at his stressed face. Had she said asked too soon?

"Cyn-" Spyro realised things were about to get _very_ awkward. "I...I already have one."

"What?"

 **Hey all, hope you enjoyed the chapter and the new style of writing I am trying to adopt as my norm.**

 **I haven't abandoned BoLs for all of you wondering. But I plan on finishing one more chapter in the segment, and starting a sequel in my new writing style. Hope this doesn't upset you.**

 **Until next chapter.**


	5. Bitter Romance

Bitter Romance

"What?"

Did Spyro really just spit out those acidic words - did he just say he already _had_ a mate?! Cynder took a trembling step back, her face molded into that of shock, anger, and utter disbelief. Her voice quivered, rage turned her throat dry and her words venomous like a desert scorpion.

"How...how could you?" Salty, crystal tears dripped from her eyes, spilling onto the warm greenery beneath their talons. Betrayal etched its way up and down her mind as her heart fell away into dust. "I waited for you, waited for the moment where you and I could be reunited," she threw an unsteady talon out accusingly at the purple drake, "and then you pull this?"

Spyro tried salvaging the rapidly deteriorating situation. He didn't want this reunion he had yearned for for so long to end like this. But any attempt he made only coaxed the raging flames higher. "Cyn, I'm sorry-"

"Sorry?" the female sarcastically repeated. "I held onto our love for ten years, Spyro. So that the day I would return we would be together, you evil son of a bitch."

Each toxic word jabbed Spyro in the gut, bringing up painful memories of times years ago. Times he'd rather not remember But instead of feeling ashamed, a deep, unearthed anger rose to the surface.

"I had been with you through the thick and the thin, I stayed with you to the bitter end, when the whole fell apart around us-"

"-Then where were you the night my world ended?" Ten years of frustration and anger exploded forth from the maw of the purple dragon in the form of a quiet, hissing, verbal fury, silencing the stunned dragoness with his elevated anger. "You disappeared for ten years without a word, and expected me to just forgive and forget? I spent six years searching for you, not knowing if I would ever see you again." Spyro's voice softened, battling between anger and grief. He turned away and took two silent steps away.

Cynder stood hushed, her rage bunged up.

"I don't know how long ten years is for you, but having spent what I was certain was my last hour with you, knowing what we've indeed been through...I had forgotten how precious those memories were..." As quickly as Spyro's wrath came, it subsided. A rage directed at her fell into a mellow sadness now whimpered inside hid empty chest. "I lost hope, Cynder. Six years of failure had drained every ounce of love. It's true I betrayed our love… But can you really blame me for giving into the love of the dragoness that _had_ been there for me?"

The last sentence had caused the black dragoness to cringe in spite a little, but this was overwhelmed by her regretful culpability. The distress in his voice told Cynder more of the bitter isolation than his words gave, and that was enough to make her rethink her entire standing in this argument. A heavy guilt forced itself upon her shoulders, not only did she just unnecessarily yell at Spyro for something he was not to blame for, but did exactly as he had said… Abandoned him without a word for a long, lonely decade. A quiet revelation made itself present, like a cloaked figure leering in the corner that only she had noticed in a room full of people.

Though Spyro had said numerous times that he was glad she was back, she didn't feel like he held the same opinion anymore, not after the resentment she had maliciously assaulted him with.

It was no wonder why Ignitus hid Spyro's book away from her years ago. It was to prolong the inevitable heartbreak of knowing Spyro had moved onto someone clearly better than her. Cynder's dark scales clouded the sorrowful tears she was now shedding. She was held to this conviction, so it was only appropriate she was harshly punished.

"I'm sorry, Spyro. I should've known better that to have expected so much of you…" While the words may have seem directed to the purple drake, it was more focused on scoffing at her own stupidity - to think the way she did, to act like she did nothing wrong. Even returning unannounced hurt the purple dragon more than it amended. Spyro had obviously gotten used to her not being around and even built a life around it, and she was only ruining it… It was best if she left now before she completely ruined his life and what little remained of hers.

Cynder turned around and begun taking slow, quivering steps away from the distressed drake.

Spyro looked on in silenced worry. "Where are you going?"

Cynder paused once more and looked over her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Spyro. I came here, expecting everything to be as they were, but I was a fool...a fool that doesn't belong...a fool that doesn't deserve you." This was her way of punishing herself...to never have what she wanted most. "Forget me, Spyro. Forget that I existed and that we never had this conversation."

Spyro's eyes widened in apprehension. He never wanted to make her feel like this, he had just held onto this stifling frustration for so long and never had a way to vent it until now. "Wait, please don't leave, Cyn. I don't want you to leave again." An all too surreal memory flashed into his mind, history was repeating itself, which Spyro didn't want. He grabbed onto the fleeting dragoness' tail,

Cynder recoiled and turned around, pulling her tail away as both dragons looked directly into each other's eyes. "I can't stay, it wouldn't work."

"I'm sorry, Cynder. I didn't mean to say like that. This isn't your fault-"

"-I'm not talking about that, Spyro. Argh." She clutched her head in one exasperated paw. "I love you, Spyro, but you love someone else. But regardless of what happens, my love for you won't ever leave and it will only make everyone's lives worse."

Spyro clasped both of Cynder's shoulders meaningfully. "We can make it work, we always had, and we always will, regardless of how much time had passed. Sure, it will take time, but everything that is worth it does. I'm willing to risk it if it means having you back in my life."

Cynder stared back with an unsure, scared gaze. "But-"

"Do you want that?" Spyro asked sincerely.

"I-"

"Do you want that?!"

"Yes!"

"Then stay with me, Cynder, please. I don't want to lose you ever again." The lack of hesitance in her voice revealed to Spyro her true wishes.

Cynder had betrayed her own mind and they both knew it, she did want to stay.

She turned her head away. "But the things I said…" The black dragoness still didn't believe she deserved such kindness.

"They don't matter anymore…" Spyro could've ranted his reasons for why they didn't. But honestly, he would rather forget the ordeal and move onto the good part. He wrapped his claws around Cynder..

She hesitated, but after a moment, returned the thoughtful deed. If Spyro was willing to forgive her again, then she'd be a fool twice over for refusing.

Their storm of thunder followed by rain had parted, exposing the gentle warmness of the friendship sun.

Spyro let himself loose of their embrace, but still held onto her shoulders. "I understand things won't be the same, but when have they ever?" he finished with a smile.

Despite the heartbreak, aggrieved argument, and regret - Cynder returned the genuine smile - glad to be back with her best friend.

Friend...

That word sat uncomfortably in the back of her hollow mind. She wasn't sure she would ever get used to the word, as grim as that thought was…

But for now, she merely enjoyed the moment, she took a deep sigh of relieving fresh air.

"So what do you want to do now?"

Spyro placed his paws back on the ground. In all the previous clutter of emotions, he hadn't thought that far ahead. He pondered it for a moment; he had all afternoon off now and only needed to be back in time for dinner.

Then he remembered, how would Solaria react to Cynder's return? He had asked himself that question before, but now that this was a situation that would certainly come up, he had to give it more thought. Normally, Solaria was on good terms on these situations because she trusted Spyro enough to ignore those 'shieldmaidens of love'. However, Cynder was different in that regard: Cynder was the reason why Spyro held back on the relationship for so long. So despite having Spyro all to herself, he fearfully foresaw Solaria perceiving Cynder as a threat.

However, on the other end of the spectrum, how would Cynder react to meeting Solaria? She was fairly sour about learning the truth...though, that anger appeared to be directed at him more than anything. She seemed accepting of it, but only time would tell.

"Spyro?" Cynder asked again.

Spyro quickly shook away his thoughts and remembered the question. "Errm…" His first thought was to head back to Warfang and reintroduce Cynder back to the city. However, he didn't feel like kicking the nest of an easily excitable city was the best idea right now. Plus, he wanted to spend at least a little time away from his hassling celebrity life. He wanted to do something simple, something he actually enjoyed...like going for a walk.

It's funny that even the most influential character currently alive enjoyed something so humble and free; a mundane, time-wasting activity normal snobs would avoid. But Spyro would happily partake in any venture if it means escaping his high-life entrapment.

"How about a walk? It's about time we caught up," he joked.

"Alright. Though it would likely be a long walk," Cynder added, joining Spyro side as they started their stroll through the purple, luminescent forest.

"All the better."

* * *

"Wait...so Ignitus literally drew the evil from your mind and you had to fight yourself?"

Just as they had predicted, ten years was a lot to fit into a walk. They had even been through the Twilight Forest and back, and even halfway into Avalar and they still haven't gotten onto Spyro.

"Well, not exactly. Do you remember when we faced off in Convexity, when I was in that adult form?"

"I do, I remember Sparx saying off-hand how he thought you were sexy…"

"What?" Cynder blushed profusely, stopping where she stood and looking at Spyro with a half dumb-found, half embarrassed expression.

"Yeah, he did say that," Spyro insisted.

Any wild nerves between the two had faded as their conversation took leaps and bounds in all manners of directions. It would almost seem as if they had been friends for the last decade.

"But to be honest, I would've thought the same had circumstances been less dire."

Cynder smirked. "So you thought my adult self was sexy?"

This time, Spyro blushed. "What...no, but."

"So now you're saying I'm not sexy?"

Again, Spyro tripped awkwardly on his words, somehow putting together a phrase. "Of course you are, but you are so much more than just beautiful."

This...didn't help the situation. While it did the turn the tables back on Cynder, who's cheeks started burning up, Spyro too had gone even hotter under the collar.

Cynder hastily, yet smoothly changed subjects. "So how is the annoying, glowing gnat anyway?"

Spyro caught on, glad the subject was changed. "Sparx? He's doing good, he's married now."

Cynder was stunned like a gossip girl. "Hang on, you're telling me, that not only had Sparx got a girlfriend, but he's also married?"

"Indeed, and he's got a couple of kids." Spyro smiled. "Which I guess makes me an uncle."

Cynder found it funny to think of it that way, but he couldn't help but admire the young dragonfly in a new light. "Well, good on him..." For a second, neither spoke, embracing the light-hearted silence of the sweet moment.

"So what about you? Surely you must have some interesting stories while I was gone?" Cynder perked up.

"Oh, me? Honestly, I don't have much to say."

"Come on, surely you must have something? What about your wife?" While the topic did leave a bad taste on her tongue, she thought she might as well get to know about her.

Spyro hesitated, but told anyway. "Her name is Solaria-"

"Solaria? As in Ignitus's daughter?"

Spyro eyes widened in astonishment. "How did you know?"

"I did spend ten years with him…"

"Well, yes, yes you did. But also, she is my...wife."

"Funny world, I guess."

"Mm…"

"What else, surely that's not it?"

"Well no...we also have a youngling…"

Cynder paused and looked at Spyro in shock.

"What?!" she dejected.

"I told you, ten years is a long time."

"I...I know...but still."

They fell back into another only more troubled silence.

Cynder perked up though, she still had burning questions about Spyro himself. "What about you? What do you do now since you've saved the world; do you continue fighting Malefor's forces?"

"No."

"Became a guardian?"

"No…"

"Train new recruits?"

"No…" Spyro downheartedly repeated.

Cynder found this particularly unusual. "Then what do you do?"

Spyro sighed. "I'm paid to attend parties or meet with other rich families in Warfang...but it isn't as good as it sounds."

"If you don't enjoy it, why not do something else? I mean, you are capable of doing anything you want."

"Because, Cyn, I'm not really good at anything else; it's the only thing I really know these days." Spyro was tired of the subject, it was always the first thing people brought up when striking a conversation in one form and the other: how was his 'celebrity life', 'have you met our daughter', 'how much would it be to have you over at our mansion'. Yet they never talk about other things like his hobbies, or his origins. It was always the same repetitive topics.

"But you're good at fighting?"

"Used to be. But I can't just drop my current job, as much as I dislike it, it would cause too much hassle that would never go away." Spyro was comparing this 'curse' to his other malediction of females. "Now can we please talk about something else?"

Cynder was confused - why was Spyro so annoyed at such a trivial thing, was the job really that unpleasant? Regardless, she dropped the subject.

Spyro looked up, noticing the sky was slightly darker than it had been ten minutes ago. He looked towards the orange sun not beginning to descend behind the rain-carved cliffs to the west. He wanted to get home earlier so he wouldn't haveto rush around as much preparing for the night out.

"We'd better head back, I need to get ready."

"Ready? Ready for what?"

Spyro smiled and looked back to Cynder, remembering how today, regardless of how much everyone else inclined to disagree, was about _them_ and how _they_ saved the earth. "Today is the second day of the Day of Heroes Festival."

Cynder realised what he meant, she remembered reading up about it in Spyro's life-story about how great of a celebration it was. Although, the idea of chugging wine and beer and merrily dancing with drunk strangers didn't really appeal to Cynder, who wasn't that keen on meeting strangers, let alone potential weirdos. Despite this, she couldn't quite recall what special thing happened on the second day. She remembered the great ball on night one and the dazzling fireworks on the last night...but what about night two? "So what are you doing then?"

"Me and Solaria always dine out on this night, so I need to get home and get myself cleaned up ready for it."

Spyro had an idea, it was risky, but if it paid off, it could serve as a good ice-breaker between Cynder and Solaria. "Hey, Cyn. Would you perhaps like to join us tonight?" he eagerly asked.

An undecided frown took hold of Cynder's maw. "Really? I mean, it sounds like its a special night for just the two of you, and I would hate to interrupt it, especially considering...us."

"I'm sure it would be fine. Solaria is very understanding, most of the time, she just needs to get to know you."

For a moment, Cynder pretended to think his words over. But the reality was that she was already won over. A smile overtook her maw. "Yes please."

"Then let's get going, we'll also re-introduce you to the guardians tomorrow as well if you would like?"

Cynder remembered the guardians well; the stone soldier without a rock for a heart - Terrador - the intellectual genius with a lightning tongue - Volteer - and the glacial noble honour to match the beauty of his element - Cyril. It would certainly be nice to actually catch up with them and not just hear the countless tales told by Ignitus, as titillating as he told them.

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Spyro smiled. Both dragons opened up their wings almost simultaneously and beat them in unison, taking to the air like they had done all those many years ago.

* * *

Cynder stared in awe at how colossal the temple truly was: it was more like a palace than an actual place of governance. Both dragons were just now walking down one of the lengthy hallways towards his front door.

While Spyro continued on naturally, Cynder was constantly turning and squirming, taking in the magnificence and the overall huge size of the building. She had seen some truly large places including her own fortress, but the constant black clouds and same obsidian walls made the place look just so dreary. Even the black and white tiled floorings made the place just look like Malefor's over-sized kitchen.

But this place, this place really took the cake. Intricate carvings were etched into the pillars that lined the corridor while multi-coloured pastel drawings filled the gaps in between, depicting important events from recent history and times of the ancients.

While Spyro had been through this hall many times, he couldn't help but secretly smirk at Cynder's child-like excitement.

They passed by a couple of furry little moles that gave the purple dragon a polite nod before giving the black dragoness inquizitive looks.

Shortly after, they stopped outside a pair of towering, white, oaken doors. Two moles dressed in their black steel armour stood rigid either side, their lengthy spears pointing towards the heavens. But as Spyro approached they exchanged acknowledging nods.

Cynder gave it a puzzled look. Even though it was Spyro's room, wasn't this kind of entrance not a bit excessive for one, maybe two rooms? She didn't get a chance to question though when Spyro pushed the large door ajar, revealing nothing short of a mansion inside.

Huge white walls with rosemary gold encircled them as they wandered in. The ash-wood floors shone from all the vigorous scrubbing and maintenance. A shallow ramp on the right lead up to an overhead balcony that hugged the wall to the left. Great windows opposed them, allowing vast amount of light to seep through and brighten the area. Several more smaller doors lined both edges and the balcony. Silver lit lamps also clung to the walls, providing light when the sun's rays were not present.

Although this type of luxury wasn't new to Cynder, she couldn't help but marvel at the architecture and the deep levels of detail.

"Solaria, I'm home, and I've got someone I would like you to meet," Spyro called out as he entered.

Cynder gently closed the door behind her and continued further into the mansion.

A few seconds go by, but no response. " _Where is she? She would have normally been back by now to look after Ignirius. And where is that baby sitter? No matter, we still have plenty of time before we need to head out."_

"So, you own all of this?" Cynder asked amazed, she wouldn't of thought of Spyro as the type to indulge in luxury, but apparently she was wrong.

"Well, technically yes. But I prefer to think of it as its owned by me and Solaria...though, I sometimes think we don't need a home as big as it, a lot of it is just empty space."

" _There it is…"_ Cynder smirked. "Then why not move somewhere smaller?"

"Because Solaria insists this is the best environment for our son to grow up."

While Cynder still cringed at the thought of his child, she was secretly anticipating seeing Spyro's very own son.

Spyro turned his head towards Cynder. "Do you mind waiting here while I go wash myself off?"

"Not at all."

Spyro smiled and headed towards the ramp. "I shouldn't be too long. Oh, and if you see Solaria, don't hesitate on introducing yourself."

"I won't."

Satisfied, Spyro headed up the ramp and around the corner, walking almost ambledly towards one of the doors. Cynder found it too painful to not comment. "Spyro?" She called out once more.

Spyro paused and looked over the balcony.

"Why didn't you just fly up there?"

Spyro molanchantly shrugged. "Solaria says 'what's the point of a ramp if we don't use it'."

"What's the point of having wings if you don't use them."

Spyro chuckled at the comment. "I don't know, really." Spyro continued walking and vanished behind the corner of the balcony, leaving an amused Cynder to question some of the bizarrities of rich people.

Twenty minutes had passed and Cynder was bored. At first, she tried peering at herself using the almost mirror-like floor, but that dulled quickly. She tried aimlessly walking, but again, that only elevated her boredom. She had to find something to pass the time. Maybe a quick exploration around the house wouldn't hurt? She was sure Spyro wouldn't mind, and Solaria wasn't around either…

She started her tour downstairs, sticking her head through numerous doors, discovering where the kitchen was, the dining room, even a spare bedroom that no one slept in…

She soon turned her inspection towards the upstairs, where another row of doors beckoned her to come and pry into their secrets. She sneakily opened her wings and flew over the balcony, surely Spyro does this from time to time when no one was looking…

The first door she passed was the one she could hear splashing sounds, and while she was tempted to peek, she refrained on the basis of privacy.

She moved onto the next door, one that was suspiciously distant from the others, indicating a particularly large room. She unhesitatingly creaked the door open. Inside, she saw a large bed covered in a red, silken cover with silver trimmings. Four bed posts stood like decorative totem poles, holding up a pink, thin veil. Along the outside, pieces of varnished wardrobes and drawers sat parallel to the walls.

Though there was one piece of furniture caught her eye to the left - a white painted, wooden crib. She found herself unusually entranced by the object, not because of what it is...but what could be inside it.

" _No, Cynder. That's Spyro's son that could be in there."_ She turned away and almost closed the door behind her. But looking back, she found her curiosity almost overwhelming. What is the harm in peeking? She would be introduced to him later anyway. Besides that, the chances of the baby being in there anyway were slim, most likely with Solaria.

She scuttled over to the snowy-coloured cot and peered over the edge...Inside she saw...

The baby.

A fragile, red hatchling laid innocently asleep, curled up underneath a red blanket lain askew. His breathing pattern was rhythmic and slow. On top of his head, two little bumps were starting to show underneath his little scales. The shape of his head greatly resembled that of his father's.

To Cynder, he was adorable, truly a spitting image of Spyro (apart from the scale colour of course though). She did wonder what the hatchling would've looked like had she been the mother though...

She brought herself out of her thoughts though when she noticed one of the hatchling's claws exposed.

" _Can't have this now, can we?"_ She smiled, reaching out a gentle talon towards the hatchling's light blanket.

"Don't you dare move another inch towards the baby!"

 **Heya all, hope you enjoyed this chapter. I know they keep getting longer which is unlike what I said, I'll try to shorten it next chapter.**

 **Until then though,**

 **Adios**


	6. An Unexpected Guest

An Unexpected Guest

Why didn't she just walk that little bit faster? She could've been home to her wonderful baby, awaiting the return of her darling husband. But no, she decided to leisurely walk home like nothing in the world mattered...and this is her punishment, to be caught up in a stupid bicker between a shrill old lady and a hunky builder who sounded like a pirate with a lot of cadence in their voice.

The irritating duo managed to drag her away from the busier sections of the temple to a quiet corner so they could have her to themselves: forced to listen and mediate this stupid 'conversation.'

From what little she had gathered between the many insults and 'polite' comments of how each other should go about killing themselves, she had put together that the construction worker had supposedly illegally built on the old lady's land.

The pitiful guardian had been stuck between the volleys of insults for almost an hour, endeavouring fruitlessly to bring order between the two. But each time she spoke up, the two parties would erupt even louder and quell her attempts to soothe the rage. Her patience was now wearing thin, and the temptation to yell herself was becoming more alluring. Even with her guardian training and her inner voice of reason, the urge to shout sense into the wrinkly avocado and ape reject was slowly creeping up on her.

However, her guardian image was saved in the form of Cyril, who had overhead the yelling down the corridor and came to investigate the petty ruckus. Upon seeing the poor fire dragoness caught in this sandwich of barbarism, Cyril took it upon himself to take a firmer approach to stopping this raging fire.

Solaria spotted the much larger Guardian of Ice approaching and practically sighed with relief.

Despite Cyril's tall stature now towering over the two furious furballs, they somehow remained completely oblivious. Cyril coughed loudly and purposely.

The two moles snapped their heads around to the disturbance, immediately stopping when they saw only the feet of a blue gargantuan dragon. Their eyes followed up the body, causing them to crane their necks to see the glaring eyes of Cyril.

"I do believe it is closing time,. Please come back in two days and at least try to enjoy the event," Cyril spoke calmly, if a bit condescendingly.

A shiver crawled down both their spines (thanks to Cyril lowering the surrounding temperature for added effect). Something about the ice dragon unsettled them, so with uncomfortable grins on their faces, they heeded his advice and left either side of him.

Solaria waited for them to leave before speaking. "Thank you, Cyril. I'm pretty sure I would've lost it with them had you not of come along."

Cyril nodded and smiled. "That is quite alright. But sometimes, my dear, you have to assert yourself as the alpha. It's the only language some of these heathens understand. Now you best get going; wouldn't want you to get caught in another mess, now would we?"

Solaria nodded. "I'd rather not. Thank you again, Cyril."

Solaria passed by the old smiling drake and continued on her liberated way back home. Even from here, she could see the door to her home. A minute long journey stupidly postponed for no good reason. What in that hour did those two actually accomplish by dragging her into it? She prayed that the two of them would just get drunk and forget about the whole ordeal entirely. She sighed. As annoying as it was, it was now in the past and she could finally get on with her evening.

She hoped Spyro was home by now, even if she wasn't. She did often get vexed at how often he was late home, unable to spend time with their son or her. But on the other hand, she understood his job couldbe very demanding at times. Regardless, she trusted him to put the extra effort to arrive home on the agreed time today.

But regardless of the outcome, she was certain tonight would be one to remember.

* * *

Cynder hastily spun around towards the voice, which sounded snobby, but angry. A well-dressed bipedal bear glared at her, he was carrying a baguette in one hand and brown paper bag of shopping in the other.

The ridiculous sight of a plump bear slightly taller than her brandishing a Brown Baguette of all things didn't exactly intermediate her. Regardless, she knew what she was going to would be perceived as bad...very bad. More than anything, she feared Spyro's wrath which would undoubtedly come.

"I...I swear I wasn't going to do anything!" she blurted out.

"Away from the baby," the bear growled again, his ridiculous accent making himself sound like a cringe-worthy hero.

Cynder fearfully obliged, hurriedly scuttling away from the disturbed crib.

The yelling disrupted little Ignirius from his shallow slumber. What started out as slow, muffled whimpers quickly escalated into full blown crying.

The anthropomorphic bear, feeling he had petrified the female enough into obligation, inched himself between the black dragoness and the bawling baby. Still feeling like Cynder was still too close for comfort though, he bopped dragoness on the end of her maw with the crusty snack.

Cynder clutched her snout in stunned surprise and took another step back. With each passing second, the situation spiralled uncontrollably from her claws, to the point she had no grasp of her own fate, making her feel helpless. Things only got worse when a soaking wet Spyro sprinted into the room, almost sliding past the door as water dripped everywhere.

"What's going on?" he called out in alarm. In front of him, Cynder stood to his right with an obvious look of fright on her face. To her left, his babysitter - Moneybags, threatening the dragoness with a loaf of bread. Lastly, his vulnerable son crying his eyes out in his crib. He made his way to his baby and very gently wrapped him up in his blanket, lifting him up from the crib and bringing the tiny, wailing hatchling close to his soggy chest.

The bear obligingly opened his mouth, "Well, I had just come back from the local shop and hopped into an adjacent room when I heard suspicious sounds in the main bedroom. Lo and behold I caught this sneaky perpetrator trying to lay their grubby paws on your little darling son." The chubby bear once more aimed the baguette at Cynder, who paid it no heed as her worried eyes were firmly resting on Spyro.

No one else spoke while Spyro softly swayed his son. "Shhhh…" he hushered. Soon, the screaming of the poor hatchling quietened down into a series of low murmurs, quickly lulling back into a gentle sleep.

Feeling his son's heartbeat beat rhythmically, Spyro slowly placed his son back into his white cradle.

He then turned to the cause of the disruption, a sour scowl about his face. He quickly motioned with a talon for both dragoness and bear to sneak out with him out of the bedroom.

Cynder, feeling pathetic and atrocious at herself, had no option but to follow Spyro out and face his fury, even though she hadn't technically done anything wrong. Moneybags on the other hand, was baffled at Spyro's ease around the intruder who had just attempted to harm his son; either way he kept his weapon unsheathed and directed at the 'infernal' being.

The trio left the bedroom with Spyro waiting for the other two to exit before silently closing the door behind them. He then looked to Cynder with a stern frown, awaiting an explanation to why exactly she was in his room looking at his son.

Cynder was panicking on the outside, but inside she had accepted her fate. "I am so sorry, Spyro. I was just waiting, and I got bored and explored the house, and then found your room..." She sighed. "I saw your child, his blanket wasn't tucked in properly...and so I reached in to tuck it…I'm sorry, but please understand, I would never do anything to hurt your son…I just..." she hung her guilty-ridden head.

Spyro's fatherly instincts passed, replaced by an understanding smile. " _She only did it because she was curious…"_ He sauntered over and hugged the black dragoness, catching her off guard.

Confusion raced through her mind. Had he forgiven her yet again?

"I understand, you were curious. But, if you really wanted to see Ignirius, you could've just asked. I would've happily postponed my bath." He then let Cynder go from his gentle embrace.

"I…" Cynder stopped herself. She let a slow sigh escape her maw, there was nothing else to say. Instead, she let herself fade into the background. She was happy Spyro was still as kind-hearted as ever and understanding. However, there was still a thought buried deep, one she deliberately kept away from the light because of the crippling effects it would have.

That flickering secret...that desire. A part of her wanted to respect Spyro's wishes, to settle down and be happy about being Spyro's friend. While the other half, wished against all odds to be the black diamond that shined in his amethyst eyes. However, this lesson had shunned the latter of the two feelings...for now.

Spyro turned towards Moneybags. "Thank you for intevening, but all is fine." The purple drake then turned to Cynder. "Cynder, this is Moneybags, our babysitter."

Cynder snapped out of her doleful thoughts and turned towards the tall, stout figure. She still didn't know what species this creature was. To her, it looked like a purposefully forgotten ape species that people hang around with to look thin.

"I apologise for hitting you on the nose, madam. But I'm sure you understand that I was only doing my job."

There was something sleazy with the creature, like he would gladly guard some innocent creature in a cage for a little extra cash. But she decided to play it polite and keep her thoughts to herself. "It is nice meeting you too, Moneybags."

"Please, call me Mr. Moneybags."

Cynder nodded in reply. She couldn't help but dislike the arrogant blimp of an animal, and insults came to her mind as easily as seconds do his dinner table. But she had to respect the fact that he did his job. He could probably babysit like no other if he sat on the wrong thing...

All nine-hundred pounds of the bear shifted towards Spyro. "I expect a little extra this time around, considering I did just risk my life."

"Of course, Moneybags."

"Excellent. I think I'll now briefly head home and tend to my prized Shenzhen Nongke Orchid and return in an hour," Moneybags explained as he headed for the distant ramp, his shopping bag crinkling with each step, no doubt full of treats to slap into the baguette.

"Sounds good," Spyro called back. Spyro then turned back to the dragoness. "Are you okay?"

Cynder gave a sorrowful smile. "Never thought I would get beaten by a fat ape with a breadstick. Although, I suppose you have though," she joked.

"Hey, play nice. He is actually a normal size for his species." While Spyro did mean to reprimand, he still couldn't resist cracking a grin.

"What exactly is he?"

"He's a bear."

"Hmm..." Cynder looked once more at the bear, who looked like he was on top of the world. "That does make sense. More sense having a bear babysit your child than an ape."

"What do you mean?" Spyro asked, his sly grin changing into a thought-provoked one.

Cynder looked back. "Well, he isn't what you would call babysitting material now, would you?"

Spyro looked towards the bear, dressed just as prestine as his agent. "I guess so. But according to him, his great, great grandparents once babysitted Ignitus, and well, we saw how great he turned out."

Cynder could've easily poked a dozen holes in that theory, but decided against it. In a world like theirs...anything was possible.

"But, anyway, you probably want to clean up before tonight's dinner now, wouldn't you?" Spyro suggested, as both dragons turned back towards each other.

"Don't you need to dry off first?" Cynder smirked.

Spyro looked down. He had completely forgotten he was still soaking wet and had sloshed water all over the marble floor. "That might be a good idea...glad to see you still have them."

A couple of minutes later, Spyro had gotten himself dried off, and Cynder had taken his place in the bathroom. Another half-hour passed and Cynder was done, rinsed dry and all. Why it took Spyro as long as he did was beyond her, but oh well…

She smiled when she got out of the bathroom, the puddles of water Spyro previously spilt had been cleaned up. Little giggles drew her attention to centre of the colossal room. The source of the sound was of Spyro playing with his son, a content smile on his face. Ignirius the hatchling was interacting with some painted wooden blocks while Spyro's body formed a protective circle around. Occasionally, one of the blocks would get launched askew, but would tumble harmlessly off Spyro's thick, violet scales.

"Hey, Spyro," Cynder called out from the edge of the gold-plated balcony.

Spyro twisted his head in her direction. "Hey."

Cynder leapt from the balcony, gracefully landing on the checkered floor below.

"I asked you not to do that…"

"Come on, you know that's a stupid rule," Cynder playfully argued.

Spyro sighed as he got up. He picked up his son in hand and carefully balanced him while walking on the three others. "Follow me."

"Where are we going now?"

"Trust me, you'll like this. We're heading to the bedroom."

A big grin spread upon Cynder's face, even though she knew that wasn't the reason. She once more spread open her bat-like wings and fluttered up to the bedroom doors.

Spyro exhaled defeatedly. He hesitated for a second, but cupped another talon under his fragile son and opened out his own wings. He took off and followed an amused Cynder to the door.

"See, that was much easier, was it not?"

"It...it was, though I can't make a habit of it. Solaria wouldn't be happy to find me doing this. But please, when Solaria gets here, just use the ramp."

"Alright." Cynder smiled.

Spyro exhaled, relieved. The fewer things Solaria got upset about, the better it would be for all of them. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Cynder questioned as Spyro pushed open the door.

"I want to try a necklace on you."

"A necklace? Why?" Cynder followed him in.

"The place we're going to has quite a high standards of it's customers, you'll get frowned upon if you don't wear at least one piece."

"Well, that's a bit condescending," Cynder grumbled.

"I know, but what can we do?"

"Go to another restaurant?" Cynder suggested nonchalantly.

"We can't. I've asked Solaria in the past but she always prefers this one."

Cynder shrugged. "Alright, what did you have in mind?"

Spyro first hopped over to the bed and cautiously placed his son on it, who promptly sunk into the mattress and enjoyed every second of stumbling around in his own made crater.

The purple drake then took to one of the several set of varnished white drawers and opened it. Inside were many sets and singular pieces of jewelry of varying colours and metals, placed carefully upon red, velvet cushions with gold trimmings. They all were well maintained, but one piece stood out amongst them all, the piece Spyro was seeking.

"A blue necklace with an emerald embedded in it. I think it would go nicely with your current pieces."

Cynder couldn't help but smirk. She had the choker and braces removed ages ago by Ignitus after complaining they were getting a bit tight for her growing body. While it did feel odd to begin with, she quickly got used to and even enjoyed not carrying those weighted iron shackles.

"Solaria only ever wore it once, and that was on the hatchday I got them. So I don't think she will mind if you wear it."

"Spyro…" Cynder called out, giggling inwardly to herself.

Spyro took his head out the drawer. "Yes, Cynder?"

"Aren't you forgetting something...isn't there something different about me?"

"We'll you're- oh…" Spyro realised, and felt somewhat of an idiot for not noticing before. Spyro gave a dryish chuckle. "I still would like to see how it looks on you. He lifted the aforementioned piece by the cushion and settled it gently on the bed. Both dragons could then see the artistry put into the dainty piece.

Anodized, blue titanium formed the band of the curved piece. Black grooves etched spirals around the rim. An intricate hinge system connected another forged piece to the other end that clipped on to the other side to hold it in place. Lastly, a grass-green emerald sat squarely in the heart of the metal.

"It was handcrafted by one of the best blacksmiths in Warfang. But obviously, it wasn't that good, considering Solaria hasn't worn it since..."

Cynder noticed the down-hearted tone hinted in Spyro's voice, yet couldn't understand why Solaria wouldn't like a piece as beautiful as this, which obviously had a lot of thought and care put into it.

"But here," Spyro added, picking up the jeweled band and playing off the downness with a calm excitement, "I want you to try it on."

Cynder remained still as Spyro tenderly placed the piece around her neck and did up the delicate latch.

Spyro then took two steps back to admire the sight….a beautiful dragoness with a beautiful necklace. The radiant light refracting off her washed off scales and the naturally lambent metal. Cynder had indeed been blessed with natural beauty since Spyro last saw her ten years ago.

"So, how does it look?" Cynder had been twisting her head to view the necklace, but her neck was only so flexible.

"You look...amazing," Spyro breathed.

Cynder quickly turned her head towards the front and stared at Spyro. Did he seriously just use that word? She felt a confident, yet playful demeanour take over.

She strutted past Spyro towards the door. "Shouldn't we get going? I'm _famished_ ," she said with an alluring undertone, adding prominence to the last part.

"Is something wrong, Cynder?" Spyro asked with an raised eyebrow, noticing her shift in character.

Cynder instantly dropped the charade. "Nothing, is wrong. I am just hungry."

Spyro spent a second giving an odd look, but disregarded the comment straight afterwards. "We still need to wait for Solaria, of course."

He could sense there were still some embers flickering inside her, but those should smoulder out in time, he hoped.

He scooped his son from off the plush bed and carried him out of the bedroom.

* * *

Solaria had made it to her front door, unhindered by babbling pests like those earlier. She exhaled a sigh of relief. Due to that petty distraction, her time to prepare for tonight had been slashed considerably. She would need to rush to get ready for tonight, but hopefully, Spyro would be inside, ready to disembark. This thought actually gave her an idea.

She turned to one of the motionless moles and asked him a question. "Excuse me, guard."

The little mole dressed in metal snapped his head towards her. "Yes, Ma'am?" The mole saluted.

"Did Spyro come through here at any point today?"

"Yes, Ma'am. Master Spyro walked through this door an hour ago with another female."

Solaria recoiled with a look of disbelief on her face. "What?! Who was this female?" she interrogated.

"I apologise, Ma'am, I do not know who she was. All I know is she was black and approximately the same size as you. As far as I am aware, they are still inside."

Solaria's brow lowered in fury. She stormed through the front door. The mole returned to his stock position.

The white doors flew open, a piercing, loud crash echoed throughout the mansion.

"Spyro!" she yelled in anguish. She didn't know what yelling his name would achieve, but at that moment, it seemed appropriate.

What she didn't initially realise was Spyro laying directly in front of her, with their sweet son once more in the preventative circle that was Spyro.

Two seconds of utter silence passed before the screaming forced the poor hatchling to burst into another round of crying. Spyro caringly stretched his talons out and pulled the hatchling close.

But Solaria didn't care at this moment of time, not when her mate could be cheating on her. Her eyes narrowed onthe black dragoness to the left, who was sitting casually before her, now on edge from the guardian suddenly bursting through the front door.

Solaria took note of her details; her sleek, black scales, her gleaming, bladed tail, her threatened, wide green eyes...Cynder?

Solaria's eyes searched slightly down and noticed the blue glisten on her neck...was she wearing Solaria's favourite neck piece?

She demanded answers, and she demanded them now.

 **Hey all, hope you enjoyed this chapter. Quick disclaimer - I do not hate/like to shame overweight people, my mind can just be a dark place sometimes.**

 **On a lighter thought I would let you know that there won't be a chapter for this one for a little while, this is because I'm finally going to finish up BoLs with one more chapter.**

 **Until next time.**


	7. Underlying Issues

Underlying issues

To call her fury a storm wouldn't do justice to the wrath she was about inflict upon the pair. To see her husband with the one she was certain was Cynder, whom was wearing her favourite necklace, launched her skywardly over the narrow edge created from earlier annoyances.

While seeing them in the middle of the hallway and not creating elements in the bedroom did come off as a little off, her rage left little room for reason.

However, Spyro wasn't completely defenceless against the surging tide. While he was certainly startled by the sudden crash of wood and words, he had anticipated a storm. All the prior hours worrying about this fated encounter had not been wasted silently fretting.

He approached the seething dragoness, wailing baby in hand. The purple dragon gently swayed his beloved son, stifling his cries back into quieter murmurs. Spyro's eyes held gaze with Solaria's twin infernos unwaveringly.

Solaria though, broke her concentration when she noticed her precious child reaching out to her with outstretched arms, glistening tears in his eyes. His gentle smile stretched wide at the simple sight of his mother home.

Her brow eased mellowly, she reached out and clasped him in her two unfurled talons, soft as a whisper. Her hatchling gripped onto her chest and burrowed his head into her scales, nuzzling into his mother's embrace.

Solaria's shoulders drooped, but while she didn't plan on yelling anymore, she hadn't forgotten the situation which led to it in the first place. For now, she will play as judge and not as executioner. Her eyes retraced back to Spyro's head, an expectant snarl on her face. He was still smiling, an 'innocent' smirk which only further annoyed her.

"Evening, my love," he started.

She will not fall for his butter-smooth words…

"Care to explain to me what the hell is going on?" Her words were low and resentful.

"Of course," Spyro answered, changing his tone to more serious while still holding onto the that tip of happiness. "After I came back from a break, I saw a letter addressed to me, signed by Cynder."

"And that's it?"

Spyro shook his head. "No. Cynder invited me to meet her in private so I took the afternoon off-"

"You took the afternoon off?!"

Spyro was taken aback briefly by the question. "It- it was approved by Burrow, my agent."

Solaria sighed loudly and threw her head back. "That doesn't make it right, Spyro. You don't just give leave work to go off and look for someone."

"But she was, she's right here."

"And that's the other issue…" She turned towards the black dragoness. "Cynder?!"

Cynder only stood and listened to the stern reprimanding. She visibly flinched though when Solaria snapped her head in her direction and audibly called her name.

"It's nice to meet you and all, but could you please give us a minute. We've got family business to talk about."

"Errm, sure," Cynder responded, only too glad to remove herself from this awkward situation.

She paced by the two, their gazes following her every step. She had just got in line with them when a intentional cough on Solaria's part caused her to pause. She looked towards the red dragoness, who had a frown on her face and a paw outstretched.

"My necklace, if you wouldn't mind."

Cynder could sense a hint of disgruntlement hidden in her tone. She sheepishly looked back at the sullen guardian and fumbled around with the neck band's latch, eventually managing to remove it from her own neck. She then handed it back into the waiting claw of Solaria.

"Thank you. Now could you please give us a moment."

Cynder nodded, and continued on her way out the doors, discreetly closing them behind her as she went to wait outside.

As soon as the entrance was sealed shut, Solaria resumed her interrogation on Spyro. "Why was she wearing this?" She shook the neckpiece.

"I wanted to give her something nice to welcome her back."

"So you gave her something that belonged to me? My favourite piece no less."

Spyro was baffled by the last phrase of that sentence. "If that's your favourite piece, then why do you never wear it?"

Solaria was confused by the question. "Because I prefer being able to see it everyday everytime I open that draw. As a reminder of the love you shower me with every day. If I wore it everywhere I go, I would never see it on my neck. Why don't you ever listen to me when I tell you these things…"

Spyro could only look back in self-disappointment, she had told him this ages ago... "I...I don't know. I just thought that...I'm sorry."

Solaria could tell she had upset him, and despite her prior anger, she could never stay mad at him for long. A slight smile tugged at the corners of her maw, away from the descended eyes of Spyro looking at the floor in shame.

She breathed relievingly. She knew Spyro would never do anything purposely to hurt or annoy her, even if it's doing something stupid, or stuck in his daydreams as she often caught him in. He was only doing what he thought made people happy, as he usually does. Sometimes it was hard being him, and you can't please everyone: she knew that from personal experience. In fact, she even felt a twinge of guilt for reacting the way she did, especially on such an occasion, and felt compelled to apologise.

Solaria caught the purple dragon off guard with a one-clawed hug. She nuzzled his neck with her cheek, causing Spyro to remain still and uncertain of her confusing intentions.

Solaria then brought her head to meet Spyro's curious gaze. "I understand, okay? You're excited, Cynder is back, and I'm happy for you. But that doesn't mean you can shirk your duties, okay?"

Spyro shifted his head slightly. "You're not angry?"

"I am a little, but I know you didn't mean it. I just had a moment of stress, add into the mix the mess you've gotten yourself into...and I guess I went a little overboard… So, I'm sorry for that." She then turned her head down to her adorable hatchling. Ignirius had his little red paws wavering in the air, giggling away like happy, mad man. "And mummys' sorry she scared you," she added goofily.

"What about Cynder?" Spyro asked, despite things going more smoothly than he had hoped, there were a still a few worries he had to quell.

"What about her?" Solaria had to think for a second on what he was prodding at. Only the unspoken subject of Spyro and Cynder's brief romance, along with the tantalizing delay it had put on their own love, came to mind. But to her, that's a thing of the distant past, a bother that now ceased to exist long ago. Now that she has what she wanted, that memory no longer mattered. She knew Spyro would never go back to her so long as she was in his life, because _Spyro loved her_. "Right...that… That doesn't bother me anymore. We're married, and I love and trust you enough to know you would never go back on that. So if you wish to make her a part of your life, then know I am happy for you."

These words settled Spyro's turmoiled mind, casting a mellow cover over it and blanketing it into easement. "Glad to hear."

"Anyway, I better get ready. We're going to be late otherwise."

Solaria took the oblivious infant back with her as she started to head for the ramped stairwell.

Spyro smiled. "Mr Moneybags will be back in around half-hour, so take your time. I'll let Cynder back in and we'll wait for you."

Solaria stopped and sharply turned her head. "She isn't coming, is she?"

"Actually, I was hoping she could."

She turned around and reapproached Spyro. "You know that night is just for the two of us. That's how it's been for the last four years."

"I know, but I was hoping that maybe she could come as well, this time. It is the Festival of Heroes after all, and she is a hero."

She couldn't help but shake her head and softly smile at his attempts to grasp straws. "Look, I know you're really excited to see her, but this is our time, our night and that is how it will always be. I'm sorry, but she cannot come."

Again, Spyro frowned.

"But," Solaria added, "if she wants to experience the festival to fullest, tell her to go to Dragoneye Street. No doubt the party will be in full swing there. And just before sunset, tell her to head to the roofs for the fireworks. I'm sure that will be a great welcome for her."

Spyro let out a disheartened breath. There was no contending with her once she has made her mind up without conflict, something Spyro actively avoided unless it really matter.

"I'll let her now."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I'll take little Ignirius and try to get him to sleep." The little hatchling squirmed eagerly in her grasp. "Though I feel like Moneybags will have his money's worth this evening," she added grinningly. With that, she took their giggling hatchling and headed up the ramped stairway.

While Spyro was feeling down, he couldn't help but be irritated by how long it was took to use the stairwell now that Cynder had pointed it out… Regardless, he turned to the tall doorways. He had sad news to give.

* * *

Cynder strolled the length of the door impatiently in angst. She could barely hear the muffled words of Spyro and Solaria behind the thick oak doors. The guards also prevented her from eavesdropping, their motion-detecting eyes carefully monitored the movements of the black dragoness.

Eventually though, a click, followed by a slight creak sounded. Cynder inclined her head towards the door, and to her relief, it was Spyro. She did take note of the slight frown fixed on his face, indicating it did not go well.

She bounded over the monochrome tiles towards him. "Are you okay?"

Spyro raised his head. "I'm fine. But I'm afraid Solaria says you cannot come tonight though."

Cynder was slightly taken aback, but quickly comes to terms with it. It only made sense after the strained encounter before. So with a hint of disappointment in her voice, she responded with, "I understand."

"I wish it was otherwise, but Solaria said-."

"Spyro, it's fine. I get it, okay?"

"Right."

The conversation fell into a null silence, leaving Cynder to rake her brain to not end the talk on a sorrowful note. "If you want me to, I could look after your little tyke while you enjoy your evening?"

Spyro was hesitant to answer. He knew exactly what Solaria's blatant response would be - no. "Solaria only allows us or Mr Moneybags to be alone with Ignirius at any given time."

Again, Cynder exhaled. It was probably best. To be babysitting the child of the one who still hold a torch to while they're married was only a bit weird. The only real downside though to these rejections was that she didn't have anywhere else to go, nor anything to do. She was stuck, alone on what was building up to be a great celebration for the city.

But Spyro being Spyro, always had a way to make things better. "What do you fancy for dinner? I'm guessing you didn't bring any gems?"

Having spent so long away from civilization, Cynder had almost forgotten of purchasing goods for currency. It would take her a while to adapt to this new way of life.

"I know some good places you can go, depending on what you like of course. I can give you some gems, I would hate for you to spend the evening doing nothing on such a great day, especially after the crap you've dealt with."

Cynder was about to turn the offer down. But the concerned tone in his voice told her that Spyro wouldn't take no for an answer. Plus she trusted her gut instinct, and her's was rumbling.

With a sincere smile, she nodded and answered, "That would be great...thank you."

"So, what kind of food do you like?"

Cynder contemplated this. For the last ten years, all she really had was various fish hunted from the nearby shorelines on the island along with the odd treats Ignitus procured seemingly out of nowhere, and now she hated sushi.

She did remember vividly the heavenly taste that was venison though. "I guess I could go for some venison…"

Spyro chuckled. "Expensive taste, I see."

"If that's too much, then I'll get something else," she hastily replied.

Spyro shook his head smiling. "Honestly it's fine. I was joking. In fact, there is a great place nearby, it is a little hard to find. But once you find it, you can't miss the two giant, flaming torches. It's quiet there and the venison is great. I regularly go there during my lunch hour."

Cynder sighed happily, peace and quiet sounded right up her street, she didn't feel completely ready to completely announce her return to the city...

Spyro gave directions from the temple to the restaurant, not far from where he went earlier.

"Oh, and if you see Banzai, say hi to him from me, would you? He may be mad, but he's harmless...for the most part." Spyro sniggered. One of the last times he went there, Banzai lobbed a meat cleaver at the dart board during a game. But while some grumbled it nearly hit them, Banzai insisted that no one was actually in danger...it wasn't the safest joint, but no one has been injured since Spyro has been there... "And afterwards, head to somewhere high, high enough so you can see over the city walls. The Guardians put on a great firework display every year and they're always spectacular. You won't want to miss it."

"I'm sure I won't…"

Silence descended upon the two, as both took the occasional look away. Despite numerous setbacks and upsets...it had been a good day for both. For a moment, both enjoyed this blissful peace: forgetting their anger of the past, the wounds inflicted, and the discomfort diced up by Solaria's entrance.

Spyro realised they had just been staring at each other, so he took it upon himself to sever that dead ending interaction. "I will just go and get the gems."

Cynder casually inclined her head, watching as Spyro disappeared behind the door. He was barely gone for two minutes when he returned with a small, red sack, heavily filled with various coloured gems. The lip of the cotton sack had been sealed with a pale, tightened string. A thick strip of leather was also tied to the bag, meant to be tucked over the head of the wearer and rested on the shoulder.

Cynder didn't even need to look inside to see the vast wealth carried within, easily more than needed for a simple dinner out, as expensive as the exquisite venison was. She was about to refuse the motherload when Spyro answered her unspoken question.

"I've put in a little extra…"

Cynder smirked. Extra was an understatement…

"...So you can also find a place to stay for the night...since Solaria will more than likely not allow you to stay...and besides, we don't have any spare beds…"

Cynder could sense a hint of disappointment in his tone, like as if what he was giving her now wasn't enough. But of course, she thought this was ridiculous, he has done more than enough since she has returned.

Spyro did raise a good point though, Solaria didn't seem to have a high opinion of her yet...so she would probably need to find a location elsewhere to hunker down for the night.

Spyro handed the burdening bag over to her. Cynder then raised the strap over her head until it snugly gripped her shoulder. Having been lightly packed for previous years, the sudden shift in weight almost caused her to lean sideways, much to either dragon's amusement.

"I better get going. You will probably will need to get ready and Solaria would probably get annoyed me lingering outside your door."

"You're not a bother, honestly. I would love to see you soon again…" Spyro exhaled soundly and gently smiled. "I'm grateful you came back Cyn...more than anything in the world."

Cynder felt her heart flutter, which only elevated when Spyro nuzzled her on the cheek.

" _This is fine…"_ Spyro thought, _"We're only friends."_

"See you later," Spyro added, closing the door behind him.

Cynder spent a moment glaring at the towering, white doors, thinking back to their brief touch. She then turned and wandered down the stretching corridor.

* * *

While Spyro waited for Solaria to have her shower, he gathered together a sizable pouch of sheeny gems, and left it in the usual spot for Mr Moneybags to collect. It wasn't too long before Solaria returned from the shower. Her scales now glistened that little bit extra. She also wore her new necklace.

She did contemplate wearing her favourite to appease Spyro, but she decided in the end it wasn't worth it. She had purchased this necklace to adorn for tonight and that is how it will stay.

There was still around fifteen minutes before Mr Moneybags was due to arrive, so both parents made the last checks to make sure everything was laid out and tidied up.

Exactly one hour after he said he would, the pampered bear waltzed into the home. They briefly shared pleasantries before the babysitter resumed his duties, immediately heading towards the varnished easel board propped up in the corner, a blank canvas awaited for the bear to spill his lavish imagination onto the infinite whiteness.

The last words spoken the household was Solaria's disgruntlement at essentially overpaying an artist who isn't doing what he is paid for and Spyro countering that he knows what he is doing.

 **Hi all, sorry for the lack of chapters recently, real life has been keeping me busy. But here is another chapter at long last. I hope to have BoLs tidied up before Christmas and then continue with BTHs after. (When that ones completed, then there might be a sequel to BoLs…)**


	8. Not a People Person

Not a People Person

Cynder was quickly realising why Spyro hated parties. Drunk males catcalling dragonesses, and even worse, equally intoxicated females responding positively to the demeaning remarks. One such dragon, a hefty earth one, easily looking fifty years older than he really was, tried to work his croaky charms on the black dragoness. He leaned on an empty barrel next to him to get to her eye level, but had easily underestimated his own weight, as the barrel creaked under the pressure before collapsing in on itself. The green dragon tumbled, dropping his glass and showering himself and nearly Cynder in frothy liquid. Cynder was going to snap at him, but decided falling flat on his face was punishment enough. Instead, she trod around the frothy liquid and left him there. The less attention she drew the better.

The thick stench of booze wafted through the street, poisoning her nose. Murky puddles of beer and other sticky beverages saturated the cobbled streets. While she was certain that the parties Spyro attended were better behaved, she understood the challenge presented from everything going on all around you.

She dared not touch the alcohol, for she feared what the horrible intoxication could do to her good judgement and decision-making as it had done to f those around her. Worse still, the narrow streets prevented her from being able to fly over the mess, keeping her grounded and having to pass through the rabid path of party-goers.

Worse still, she continuously felt the wary stares of bleary-eyed moles and dragons, watching in curiosity at this rare sight of a wind dragon. All of this made the dragoness very self-conscious of herself, as she kept a protective grasp over the purse given to her.

By now, she couldn't escape it though. She was waiting in line for entry into the Angry Blazer, the restaurant Spyro had recommended with the two roaring torches outside. But even though it was far out of the way of the main city, it unfortunately wasn't turning out to be the quiet place he said it was… Though to his credit, Cynder thought, he probably hadn't been here on a night like tonight.

Eventually, she was shown inside by a waiter, and was greeted by the scent of seasoned turkey, a smell most pleasant compared to the toxic gas outside.

Tarnished tables and chairs were packed tightly like sardines, in the effort of squeezing in more customers in the barely lit room. An open air kitchen sat squarely in the centre, where moles dressed in stained white aprons manned the cookers. An occasional flambé fire sprouted upwards, bathing those close by with a wave of intense heat. One mole in particular wore a strange tall hat and had a pronounced black moustache. He barked orders to his underlings and somehow was controlling the organised chaos.

Cynder was shown to a table thankfully against one of the walls, where she sat down on her haunches with her back to the wall. She was handed a paper menu, but immediately disregarded it as she knew already what she wanted. The waiter indicated he would return in a moment.

Despite being there and already seated, Cynder remained on edge throughout. The glances never stopped and she could hear the occasional mutter of inquisitiveness. She was certain everyone would eventually find out about her, but that didn't make it any less scary.

Finally, the waiter came, took her order, and returned shortly with a plate of venison. Her mouth was watering, as it had been a fair while since she had the pleasure to indulge in such divinity. Although the added herbs did bombard her senses with a plethora of conflicting scents. Regardless, she secretly thanked Ignitus for introducing her to such loveliness. This took her mind off things, as only the dinner in front of her mattered now.

She dug in, using her keen claws to rigorously slice pieces off before they disappeared down her ravenous gullet. But while it tasted excellent, she couldn't help but adore more the taste of a simple roasted deer without the added dressings.

However, midway through a mouthful and about to stuff another one in, she spotted one particular male dragon approaching, a fire dragon with a sleek physique approaching from the corner of her eye. She prayed it wasn't her he was looking for but knew deep down she wasn't going to beso lucky.

Cynder put down her meat and finished off her current mouthful, waiting for the drake to finish weaving through the chairs to get to her.

"My, what is a lovely dragoness such as yourself doing alone on a night like tonight?" he spoke, trying to squeeze as much charm out onto her as one sentence allowed. He leaned one claw on the table, dangerously near Cynder.

The way he spoke clearly indicated to Cynder he had used the same exact line over and over, and she instantly dropped her expectations considerably. Behind him, another group of male dragons eagerly watched over the scene, associates of the fire drake Cynder presumed.

"Trying to have a quiet night to myself," she replied, an irritation coating the words. However, just as she predicted, this would not be enough to deter the wannabe Romeo.

"Well that's no fun. Listen, my name is Rolyn, me and my mates here could show you a real good time," he continued. He gestured to his group of friends with a wave, whom in return also waved back and hooted.

"And how many times has that line worked for you, Rolyn?"

"On all those that said yes."

Thump!

A huge meat knife impaled the table beside the drake's claw. Both dragons flinched as he instantly retracted it. Beside him stood a mole, the one with the tall hat and black moustache Cynder saw earlier in the kitchen. He glared at the drake through beady black eyes. "Get going, mongrel, and leave my customers in peace!" he spoke in a thick nasally voice.

The drake backed off in fear and hastily retreated, much to the uproarious laughter of his friends.

The mole then retracted the embedded knife before cleaning the splinters off with his apron as Cynder looked back in madness.

"Accursed drake is always hitting on ladies. Have to keep an eye on the sly one." He then turned towards Cynder. "Please accept humblest apologies and enjoy meal, madame."

Cynder was certain by that display that this was the one known as Banzai. "Thank you, but was the knife really necessary? Doesn't it damage the tables?"

The mole smiled. "No, no, no, no!" he insisted, "It adds character to table, shows it is strong and reliable, like any good table should be. Besides, it's only way to clear away unwanted pests."

Cynder couldn't help but agree in a way. It had the desired effect after all. "Say, are you Banzai?"

Banzai grinned at the mention of his name. "Ah, you heard of me?"

"Spyro told me about you."

"Friend of purple boy? He is good customer that one, brings me good business and never not pays."

Cynder chuckled. That was certainly Spyro, helping all those he meets even if he was doing the ordinary thing.

"Say…" the mole whispered, careful not to bring too much attention to themselves. "Are you one known as Cynder?" It had only just twigged for the chef this was indeed the black dragoness, the one Spyro had mentioned countless times. Banzai always inquired about the search efforts from Spyro before he got married.

Cynder hesitated before replying. She sharply nodded her head.

Banzai burst into an excited frenzy. He threw his short paws into the air, almost letting go of the knife. "What a time to be alive!" he exclaimed.

"Shh!" Cynder hysterically ushered to the mole, trying not to attract anymore attention.

The mole quickly calmed down, awarehis outburst was drawing unwanted gazes. "I see, I see, your stay here is quiet one." His voice was but a whisper, barely audible over the usual chatter.

Cynder sighed relievingly.

"Since this is momentous occasion, I would like you to follow me." The mole heaved the unbalanced plate above his head, still with the knife in hand as well.

"Wait, where are we going?" Cynder asked puzzled.

"The lovely dragoness wants peace, yes? I take her somewhere quiet." The mole threaded his way between the tables and chairs, followed by Cynder, who thought it was just better at this point to follow than argue the logic of this particular mad mole.

She was eventually led to a thick wooden door at the far wall. "Could you please be dear and open door up?"

"Errm, sure." Cynder still wasn't sure what was going on. She reached over the mole and tugged gently on the cast iron knocker. It creaked open easily.

"Hey!" An irritated mole cried out behind them. "Why aren't we getting the the special treatment?"

Without skipping a beat, Banzai spun around. "Because you haven't figured out special passcode yet, brain-of-potatoes!"

The mole's intoxicated brain slowly ticked its cogs, trying to figure out the non-existent code. How Banzai still had customers was beyond the dragoness. But if it's stupidbut works, then it isn't stupid.

Banzai disappeared through the door while the customer was occupied, followed by an admittedly amused Cynder. She closed the pinewood door quietly, leaving her in a tight corridor with a flight of stairs to her right.

The black dragoness turned to find the mole already halfway up the stairs, stealing her dinner to somewhere unknown. She followed up, carefully placing her claws on the steep stone stairs. The mad mole turned another corner, into a room with flickering lights exiting the doorway, illuminating the dark passageway Cynder was still climbing.

When she reached the top, she found Banzai had already stabbed the knife into and laid her partially eaten meal on a low table, one she presumed meant for moles. He was now trying to push said table towards another set of crude doors with little success.

Inside was only a single small room, no other doors apart from a set that led outside. A series of bland cupboards lined the walls and a stuffy old bed was in the corner to her right. It was hard to tell what kind of lifestyle this mole lived, to own what appeared to be a popular restaurant yet to live in utter squabble. Regardless, she didn't question it, she was only here for her dinner.

Cynder invited herself in, her horns nearly grazing the top of the doorway. "Would you like some help?"

"Yes please, madame. Shove table over to window."

Cynder nodded, and clutched the rim of the rounded table. She began shoving it across the paved floor, a gritty squeal emanated from the legs screeching across the floor.

Banzai meanwhile opened up the wooden shutters ahead, revealing the the remnants of sunlight fading over the horizon. The timber doorway ledto a small outcropping balcony. The small view allowed one to see far beyond the city walls, past the battlefield of old and to the edge of the Burnt Lands. While the once impenetrable barrier of magma had since stopped erupting, the scorching lava still blazed the landscape there, creating an inhospitable environment of fire and ash.

Banzai moved out of the way just as Cynder had finished. He then wandered over to line of cupboards and opened up. "Would madame like nice glass of white wine to accompany meal?" he said as he pulled out a large glass bottle of chardonnay.

Cynder creased her face up in mild disgust. "No thank you."

"Buts it's celebration. You can't be merry without little sherry."

Still, Cynder was put off by the idea, more so now that the first decent guy since Spyro is such an avid fan of the vile liquid. "Again, no thank you. I'm not thirsty."

Banzai shrugged. "More for me." He unbunged the cork out with a satisfying pop and took a large swig. He took the bottle from his mouth a bellowed a short burp. A bubbly beard formed around his furry mouth.

Cynder looked away from the unappetizing sight, focusingon her half-eaten meal.

The crazy chef then waddled back over to the table. He dragged the knife from the oak surface. "Sit and enjoy," he added as he headed back to the door.

Cynder looked back in surprise. "You're going? But what about having strangers in home?"

The mole spun around. "Let me tell you, not one person is stranger than I. I am stranger than strangers. Besides, I trust you. If ever undesirable thief tried to rob me…" He pulled the knife close to his throat and gave Cynder the stink eye. "I kill them!" he growled lowly.

He quickly dispelled the evil look as a goofy smile overtook his face. "Enjoy!" He swallowed down another mouthful of sherry as he turned and disappeared down the stairwell.

Cynder stifled a worried gulp, and hoped Spyro was at least right in the fact the mole was harmless. She could only question the bizarre series of events that led to this point, but decided in the end it didn't matter, she could now finish her meal in peace. She blocked out the distracting thoughts and the continuous chatter from downstairs, and focused on her prize in front of her.

She stabbed one of the pieces she had carved earlier and plopped into her maw. It was once she had gotten passed the minefield of flavours she could really appreciate the meat's divine, pure flavour deeper within.

* * *

The black dragoness gulped down the last mouthful of the deer, letting out a satisfied sigh. She then used her pink forked tongue wipe away the speckles of meat from around her mouth. _"Can't let good food go to waste."_

While she waited for the meal to settle in her gut, she gazed day-dreamingly out of the window. This wasthe first time since reuniting she actually had a moment to think over today's events.

While things hadn't gone as she had hoped, she also realised it could've been far worse…

Her mind naturally drawn to Spyro, memories of their talks and the moments they shared.

However, she couldn't help but feel like something was off. Something was really getting him down, and he no longer resembled the aspiring dragon she remembered. But, he was still kind and noble, the kind of dragon any lady would be lucky to have.

A flash of pink light, followed by an explosion shook Cynder back to reality. For a moment she looked out onto the balcony in fear, only to see the rose glitter flitter down gently, fading into the now starry skies.

She realised the fireworks had started, as more whistled into the night and burst into flashes of changing colours. However, more were going off either side of her windowed view, and she wanted to see them. She shifted off her haunches and tenderly shifted the table across to one side. Cynder then stepped out onto the narrow balcony, feeling the balmy breeze flow across her face. She settled down once more unto the ground, letting go of any stress and worries, and just watch the orchestrated firework display glow. Down below, she could the hear the synchronised rounds of celebration, all enjoying this moment with her. She did wonder if Spyro was also out there, sharing the same colourful view…

* * *

Twenty or so minutes of constant kabooms passed. Cynder tried several times to make a rhythm, a song of the fireworks. But everytime she found a beat, the fireworks would change it.

When it did finally end, Cynder felt like it was time to find somewhere to bunker down. Though she did need to find somewhere first. At first, she did consider staying with Banzai, but decided he might be even scarier in the night than he already was. On top of that, Spyro had already ruled out the possibility of staying at his home, which left her with only the option of finding an inn.

Either way, while it had nearly slipped her mind, she still needed to pay the insane chef for the meal. After adjusting the table to the centre of the room and closing up the doors to the balcony, she steadily made her way downstairs, back into the busy dining hall below. A lot of the old customers had since left, only to be replaced by hungry new ones.

Cynder made her way to the centre, personally thanked Banzai and paid up. She then hastily left before any more rowdy dragons tried to speak slurred words to her. Once outside, she wandered out to a section where the crooked path opened up, giving her just enough space to fly out of the drunk infested street.

It wasn't too long before she found a place to stay the night. Nowhere fancy, but it was run by a sweet old lady mole who happily rented the room out for the night. Cynder had been surprised by the hospitality she had been given so far. When she returned, she was certain more people would be demanding answers or glare condescendingly. But when she actually got to meet them, they treat her just like anyone else.

Tomorrow though was a different story. She would actually be meeting some familiar faces.

 **Hey all**

 **I know some of you might be surprised at another chapter already when comparing to my previous record. But thought I would at least get one out before Christmas. Unfortunately, the next chapter most likely not be as lucky and will most likely come in the new year.**

 **Regardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter, not much has happened, but we got to meet probably one of my favourite characters, (though he may or may not return), no decided yet. Either way, hope you enjoyed!**

 **Until next time and Merry Christmas all!**


	9. Silence Under Moonlight

Silence Under Moonlight

Clink… Clink... Clink…

The same sounds of silver spoons tapping ceramic white bowls replayed in Spyro's ear holes. He dunked his spoon into the chestnut bisque soup and brought it to his maw. He pursed his lips and swallowed down the warm liquid, and repeated the process again.

His wife was doing the same, albeit more quickly. Neither had said much word since leaving the house, only the necessities.

They both walked here. Spyro did suggest flying, but Solaria shot that idea down. They came in, sat down at their usual annual table, and ordered the same soup.

"Well, aren't you going to say anything?"

Spyro broke from his soup trance. "Huh?" He looked up. Solaria was gazing at him, her spoon placed into the bowl.. She had a soft, eager smile on her face. "Sorry, what?" he asked.

Solaria rolled her eyes, but the smile was still present. "What do you think of it?"

"Of what?" Spyro mentally slapped himself when he realised the non-attentive answer he just gave.

"My new necklace, you half-wit." Solaria giggled.

"Oh right. It looks lovely." He then dipped the spoon back into the broth. It wasn't like she had enough of those anyway...

Solaria was left grinning awkwardly, expecting more compliments. "...And?"

Spyro looked up once more, silently sighing. "Where did you get it from?"

"From the local market. There was a lot of people… ...and her son made it, for someone without a lot of wealth… ...but it's so beautiful with…" she waffled on. But at this point, Spyro wasn't even listening, the parts he had heard just floated through him. He took another gulp of shellfish soup.

"Spyro?!" she called out slightly annoyed.

Spyro's eyes shot upwards. "Yes?"

"Were you even listening?"

"...Yes?"

Solaria gave a cursed glance to the ancestors. "No, you weren't. Now I have... Never mind…" She gave up on it... "How was your day at work?"

Spyro could tell she was growing increasingly annoyed, but in his current state, he couldn't care. He was just so tired. "It was fine, nothing new."

"Th-that's good," she replied somewhat cheerily. She hoped her contagious optimism would be caught by Spyro. "That means nothing bad happened at least."

Again, her words fell flat and she sadly sighed. She went back to eating, now scraping the bottom of the bowl with a shill screech.

Spyro exhaled. He knew she was just trying to liven the mood, but the weariness of today's events had taken their toll. Still, he should at least try. "And how was your day?"

"Thought you would never ask. It was going fine until…"

Spyro winced, knowing where this was going. Solaria loved to rant about the people that had annoyed her. He tried to listen, but eventually found the non-protesting bowl of tepid liquid to be more welcoming at this point, as he dunked his spoon into the dish for what seemed to be the hundredth time. He was hoping Cynder was having a quieter evening than him…

"Spyro!" she growled yet again.

"What?" he snapped back.

Solaria glared back in disgust. "What is with you today?! I'm trying to have a nice relaxing evening with my husband, yet you can't even hold a conversation."

"I'm sorry, okay," Spyro shot back defensively. "I've just had–"

"You know what, forget it," she stubbornly intervened. "I was just trying to be sociable, but you are being impossible tonight."

Her spoon crashed more violently into the bowl. Spyro tried to think of a way to salvage the situation. But most of the workers in his head had gone to sleep for the day. He returned to the nonchalant task of shoving soup into his mouth.

A transparent cloud hung over Solaria's head. She had hoped Spyro would at least put some effort into tonight, regardless if he had a bad day or not. She was, and she had a terrible day. " _Why is it so hard for you to just enjoy a quiet evening? It's our perfect night and you're not even trying…"_

She would occasionally scowl at him, yet he would remain either oblivious, or purposefully evasive. He would continue to stare at his honey-glazed chicken and slow-roasted potatoes, taking off slices with his cutlery and steadily chewing on it.

Both finished their meals. The empty platters were taken away and replaced with steaming slices of chocolate-drizzled cake. Yet even this failed to lighten the mood between the two. Spyro had had this meal hundreds of times at venues and parties, while Solaria's state was too miserable for any amount of chocolate delight to fix.

Spyro didn't even finish the pudding, his head was almost drooping into the chocolate. But a quick clang from Solaria stopped him.

* * *

Shortly after, Solaria paid up for the two of them and dragged her husband out in a temper. The sun had nearly disappeared behind the horizon, casting long shadows behind the many buildings that populated the city.

Spyro had worked up the energy to at least fly to the temple's famous bell tower. The tallest spire on the structure and one of the highest in the city.

A four sided mechanical clock held itself proudly in the centre, circumferenced by a large balcony. It offered an unrivalled view of the city, able to see one side of the magnificent wall to the other. The hands on the white clocks showed around five to nine. The tip of the sun clinged to edge of the horizon, slowly fading to the encroaching night.

Spyro and Solaria set calmly atop, waiting for the spectacular fireworks to ignite the skies in rich colours. Two larger guards also sat idly nearby, intended to keep the dreaming romantics away. Though they payed more heed to the fireworks to come than their jobs. Not that Solaria minded this one time, their presence alone warded off the unwanted.

The red guardian watched the skyline closely, knowing any moment that the display was due to start. She then felt a heavy weight rest itself upon her shoulder. She cast her sight downwards. Spyro had fallen asleep, using her neck as a pillow…

She was more than annoyed at this, and tried jigging him awake. But each attempt only ended up shifting him further to the ground. Not wanting to risk her husband hitting his dozing head, she stopped.

An idea then came to her. For the next couple minutes, she did nothing, her gaze still fixated in the carefree drake. A wicked grin slowly stretched across her face as she waited for the inevitable…

Clang!

The roar of the bronze bell inside the tower reverberated through the walls, yelling to the city that the fireworks were starting.

Poor Spyro was jolted awake as the bell ring thundered through his aching ear holes. This was easily a hundred times worse than the spoon clatter earlier.

His head was spinning as Solaria stared, satisfied that would keep him awake long enough to see through the fireworks.

Speaking of which, a single spark streaked into the skies, exploding into an array of purple sparks. All eyes in the city turned towards the violet star that scattered outwards, like a legend soaring into the skies of history.

More fireworks followed, bursting into scatters or red embers, or showers of yellow arcs, and every colour imaginable. Their little after-glows provided warmth and hope. Some spiralled during flight, sending out wheels of light, while others shot in unison or canon. There were intervals where order was thrown out of the window and pyrotechnics went mad, and fireworks and explosion filled the skies with chaos and mayhem like ten years ago.

From this distance though, only the bigger fireworks could be heard, a mellow pop uncharacteristic for the impressive discharge of painted lights.

Solaria occasionally looked to her left. At first to make sure her dopey husband was still showing signs of life, but after a while, she couldn't help but stare at the contentment his face was showing. A soft smile tugged the edge of his maw, his oblivious eyes reflected the vibrant colours of the lights. She was actually welcoming of his silence, as it would only ruin this portion of the night if he had starting running his mouth.

She felt at ease, no longer angry at him (though she would still be having a word with him tomorrow). She nuzzled his cheek and rested her own head on his neck. She could feel his gentle heartbeat as his sides slowly raised and shrunk, unreactive to her touch.

Spyro gazed on, his eyes not focused on anything in particular, as he didn't want to miss out on anything nor overwork his tired brain. He just stared into the void of the night. But a couple of fire wheels that burst into green light did catch his attention. They reminded him of Cynder's beautiful emerald eyes...

He wiped that silly thought away. He should be thinking of Solaria. She and her brick-red eyes… and a lovely pale underbelly? Of course, " _there is more to a dragoness than looks,_ " he thought. She was determined and motivated, and would never allow anyone to stop her from getting what she wanted. She was also a great mother to their child: loving, caring, and protective of him.

Sure, she had her flaws, Spyro could even write a long list of them. But that's bound to happen when you spend enough time with anyone. Either way, Spyro didn't want to dawdle on that for too long. He was very tired and it wasn't his position to compare his wife to his best friend. Thoughts drifted away, as his mind faded into the void once more.

This was one of Solaria favourite time of the years. A quiet evening with just her and him. No worries, no responsibilities. Those could wait until tomorrow. After today, it was back to normal for both, she would undertake her role as guardian, and Spyro would return to the bachelor lifestyle…

Every night, it would be the same story.

"How was your day?" she would ask.

"It was okay," he would reply, usually before going for a shower before they headed out for dinner.

That was the normality, and even though at times it got repetitive, it was the life she happy with. For it meant Spyro was bringing in the money to support the family, she could serve the city as a guardian should, and no nasty surprises could crop up to change it. Yet she never understood why Spyro didn't like it. He would come home complaining that the day was exhausting. Yet all he needed to do was party, talk to a few people and enjoy himself. What was so hard about that?

Regardless, she couldn't protest. Even if he despised it, he did it for her and their child. Which only fed the reasons of why she loved her. She snuggled up even closer to her hubby. Her eyes gazing upwards caught the slightest increase in his grin. She sighed lovingly, and cast her eyesight onto the night sky once more...

For the next twenty minutes the colourful fireballs illuminated the night, basking the city in beauty and capturing their imagination. It finally ended on an almost apocalyptic frenzy of explosions, so much so that some of the drunkards either thought that the show had gone askew or the city was being bombarded by enemies with a colourful taste in destruction.

Once the flashy display had ended, Solaria got off her stomach. It was time they both got an early night, since the endless cycle of work did not stop for anyone.

It was then Solaria noticed Spyro had prematurely fallen asleep...again...with his head leaning forward. She gave a unamused frown, and prodded her husband.

He did stir after a moment, giving a babbling groan before coming back to life.

"Come on, we're going home," she said emotionlessly.

Spyro obeyed, taking unsteady steps to his feet. It was only a short distance, but for him, his bed was a journey away.

Solaria and her zombie husband wandered into their decorated home. Mr. Moneybags was still humming tunes to himself and dabbing splatters of paint on the artistic canvas. Little Ignirius laid fast asleep in a custom hammock strapped around the bear's chest, using the baby sitter's plump figure as a pillow.

After a few pleasantries and farewells, Solaria resumed the role as parent and Moneybags took his earnings and left for the night. He would return early the next morning.

Only one thought rested on Spyro's mind. He looked up to the white door of their bedroom on the second floor. He opened up his wings.

"Hey. What do you think you are doing?" Solaria snapped.

Spyro turned to her disapproving face. He barely remembered the fact she hated flying inside the household. "Sorry…"

"Come on, let's go…" She sighed. It had been a long day for both. Hopefully tomorrow things would return to normal, where Spyro wouldn't be as introverted. They both made their way up the curving ramp. Spyro's tail was practically dragging at this point.

Eventually though, they had gotten through the door of the bedroom. Solaria helped settle Ignirius in his cot, while Spyro dropped his head on his pillow and practically fell into a coma on the bed.

While the beds were modelled after moles, dragon beds were much larger. The bedsheets themselves covered several metres, and the mattresses rested on the ground as four bed posts would not support the weight of two dragons.

Solaria joined him shortly, as their day finally came to an end.

* * *

Morning grudgingly came sooner than Spyro hoped. The warm summer meant daylight cycles were at their peak, and obnoxious sunshine starting creeping into his closed eyes just before five AM. However...he couldn't hate it for doing its job of waking him up. He blearily crawled out of bed. Despite being in a near hibernated state, he could easily go for a couple more hours. But work was work, and time waited for no dragon. His wife rustled a little bit in the now spacious bed, but didn't stir.

Spyro snuck out of the door, and made his way downstairs into the kitchen via the long stairs. After grabbing himself a light meal, he made his way out the front door. Outside, two mole guards, brothers, were on 'duty'. They were propped up against each other asleep, their spears resting neatly on the ground.

Spyro didn't mind, they were nice enough that he would allow this to slide, just so long as they were up before Solaria was…

He made his way down the lengthy corridor, he would always make his way into the foyer to meet his agent. It was deathly quiet in the temple this morning, more so than usual, not that Spyro minded. He was used to the silence and even indulged in it from time to time.

Not a soul stirred. Perhaps the alcohol and parties had finally caught up to them.

The purple dragon entered the open lobby. A bright, golden chandelier was suspended above. Scattered around the room, guards and commoners slumbered peacefully, including the funny image of two dragons holding each others' shoulders with goofy smiles plastered on their maws.

Spyro sat in the corner out of the way, it wouldn't be to long until his agent would be here, normally fifteen minutes after sunrise.

Fifteen minutes passed, and Spyro started questioning. Normally, his agent was just as sharp with his attendance as he was with his dress code… Another ten minutes passed, and Spyro was raking his brain… then it hit him, how did he forget?

He had the morning off! It had been discussed weeks before that he could have the morning after the event off to recover, though Spyro suspected it was so the mole could recover himself. Not that he was complaining, for it meant he could eagerly go back to bed…

He turned to head back down the corridor.

"Spyro?" a female voice called out from the entrance.

Spyro turned his head in confusion, his agent certainly wasn't a female last time he...

He saw Cynder standing in the doorway.

"Hey."

 **Hey all, not much to say here. Just Happy New Year and hoped you all enjoyed this chapter!**


	10. Scorching Truths

Scorching Truths

The black dragoness' eyelids silently slid open. The sun's gentle rays started peaking into the room and onto her black shimmering scales. It was still hanging low on the morning dawn, indicating it was still early. Normally, she would awaken slightly later, but still before most others. But today, she was an very early bird. The excitement of today's events meant she hardly slept a wink last night, now that she had time to take it all in.

Shortly afterwards, she got up and stretched out her legs and wings until she heard satisfying cracks and pops. She had been told before this was a bad habit, but she paid it no heed. It felt too good and necessary to pass on. Plus she felt stiff later on if she couldn't do it

Cynder wandered over and stared out the second-story window with green irises. It was then she realised how early she was. Below, moles and dragons snored peacefully against walls alike. One end of the street opened up to a wider market, where she could see one mole family in patchwork clothing gathering up their merchandise and belongings, preparing for the long wagon ride home. A calm, cool breeze drifted by, carrying the smell of rotten breath and stale ale. She wrinkled her nose and turned away. Even though the party was over, the after-effects remained: strong and pungent.

Cynder went back inside and closed the hinged, wooden shutter. She couldn't decide what to do. On one hand, she wanted to just get out and go see him already. On the other, she knew he wouldn't be awake yet so there was no point going. Instead, she paced around the room aimlessly.

The room itself was bare. The walls were covered in white plaster, cracking and shedding in the corners. The floor was made of dark pinewood planks that creaked under each step. A couple of oil lamps shimmered dieingly, almost drowned in the melted wax. A dusty coffee table with a bedside candle laid dormant and untouched.

The black dragoness slumped her head against the bed, hoping to fall back asleep that instant for another hour. But she stared ahead, still awake, still bored. She just needed something to help her get away from this restless state. She stared out of the cracks in the shutters, the sunrise orange peaking through and calling to her. Then she had an idea. An early morning flight would help wake her up and stave off the boredom long enough to give Spyro a chance to wake up as well.

She placed the red, cotton purse over her neck and opened the shutters once more, the putrid alcohol smell tickling her nose briefly. But she quickly took off into the early sunrise morning, leaving the crumbling motel behind.

While she did forget to check out, the black dragoness had at least paid the old mole the night before.

* * *

Unfortunately, it wasn't too long into her flight that her impatience returned. She tried hard to think of anything else she could do while flying in aimless circles like an anticipative vulture.

Even though the sun was still dawning, she could tell it was going to be another sweltering day, meaning it wouldn't be long until pestering midges came out to play…

She finally decided she would head to the temple, there she at least could catch Spyro as soon as he exited his home. Sure, she seemed like an overeager stalker, but everyone was too hungover to care.

On the way, she stopped by a fountain and took a quick drink. Though considered unetiquette, no one again cared, or were in the right frame of mind to do anything about it. Probably because they would end up doing the same to help clear their groggy minds.

Before leaving, she took a quick look around. The foul stink was so thick she could almost see the alcoholic haze drifting across the murky streets. It was clear some of these people partied well after she had gone to sleep, all finishing the night in odd contorted shapes with legs behind their heads or heads laying upon the legs of others. Others had bruises or scratches scarring their faces, presumably from brawls that had broken out. Cynder hoped this wasn't how they acted all the time, as they were no better than apes if so. She didn't want to spend another second with those horrid creatures, with their husky breathes and cave-ape ways... She knew her habits weren't considered civil, but she was far from violent against her fellow kind. Regardless, when they did wake up, it wouldbe cramps galore…

She decided to have another gulp. Afterwards, she sought out the temple.

It wasn't too long before she stood before the grand marble entry of the temple, where many of the city's politics and major decisions took place. She criss-crossed around the dozing bodies of moles and dragons.

She got inside, and immediately spied something curious and purple, loitering about, almost expecting something or someone. " _Has he been waiting for me?"_ She obviously didn't expect him up this early, maybe he was just as excited as she was. Regardless, she noticed him starting to walk off, back towards his home. Maybe she was later than she thought, or Spyro was simply impatient himself. Regardless, she wasn't about to let him go off without her.

"Hey!" she called out, raising her paw to wave.

Spyro immediately spun around to the source of disturbance, only to see a keen Cynder standing in the doorway. " _What is she doing up this early?"_

The excited dragoness bounded over the unconscious bodies towards him.

Spyro had a brief moment of despair as he remembered he had also promised to spend the day with her, but then quickly remembered again he had the morning off...so he could at least fulfill half his promise. He gave a silent breath of relief, this had all worked out in his favour again somehow…

Cynder made her way over and immediately embraced him. This caught him by surprise though, and he subtly flinched at her touch, which she picked up on.

She let him go. "Sorry," she sheepishly apologised, briefly too embarrassed to look at him.

Spyro chuckled. "It's fine. But what are you doing up this early?"

"I could ask you the same… But, I guess I was just a bit too eager to see you…" She attempted to keep a straight face, but failed miserably as a excitable grin quickly took over. She acted like a happy pup bouncing towards its owner. "I'm sorry," she burst out, "I'm just so happy to finally be back, to get to spend some time with you and all that…"

Spyro couldn't help but smile back, her excitement was contagious.

"So what did you want to do? I was thinking we could head to Avalar, maybe get some time away from the horrible smell and play. Or we could go for a relaxing flight. Heck, even a tour of the city sounds nice, you could show me some of Warfang's prettier sights? Then later on you can re-introduce me to the guardians. Have they changed much do you know?"

They all sounded like lovely ideas to Spyro, something he would've wanted to do had they been younger. But he had an even better plan. "We can start off by finding some convenient locations near where you're staying, like a grocery store and maybe a dragon spa, then you'll know where to go should you ever need those things. Then, later in the morning, we could start looking for a job for you."

"A job?" The baffled Cynder turned her head. This was not how she was envisioning their day to go out at all…

"Yes, a job. You'll need someway to pay for everything."

"I guess…"

Don't worry," Spyro assured, seemingly oblivious to the dragoness' disgruntlement. "I doubt you'll have much trouble getting one. And finally, we could meet the guardians. It will probably be by then I'll unfortunately need to head back to my own job…" Spyro ended nonchalantly.

"Wait, I thought you had the whole day off at least?"

Spyro shrank a little when she said that. Although he never explicitly said that, he did understand why she would've presumed that. "I'm sorry, I told a white lie. You see, I said today I would present you to the guardians without thinking, then I realised last night I had work tomorrow. Then this morning I remembered I had the morning off to recover. Again I'm sorry."

This amused Cynder, as she playfully replied with, "Gosh, you're never usually this forgetful."

Again, Spyro failed to notice the sarcasm. "Again, I apologise, I've just been so tired recently… I was going to use this morning to sleep, but now your here and-"

"If you're tired now, we can always leave this till tomorrow." She noted the sincere tiredness in his voice, and felt bad dragging him out this early in the morning.

"No, no. It's fine, honestly. You're here now and I would hate to keep messing with you like this."

Cynder still didn't approve of this, but decided to let it slide. Besides, it would only kill her to have to wait another day…

"Come on, let's go." Spyro began padding towards the temple door, with Cynder following in suit.

* * *

While the dragoness could think of a dozen things they've could've done, she still had to thank Spyro for taking his time to help her find her way around. This idea was the most practical at the time, even if it was about as fun as a two hour tour of a door museum. Maybe later if they get time they could spend just a little time by themselves.

They had managed to locate a couple of convenience store, one of which was only down the road. Cynder had also remembered that at some point she would need to return to the inn to book a room for a few more days. Last night was dirt cheap, though Cynder suspected theold lady may have recognised her and shaved a few gems off her bill. If that happened again tonight she would certainly need to thank the elderly mole.

They resumed their brief tour, managing to find a dragon bath, which unfortunately wasn't as near, but no worries for one that can fly. On top of this, the duo scouted out a couple of potential restaurants Cynder could visit whenever she didn't feel like cooking or fancied something else for a change.

By the time their short tour concluded, the sun was lurking high in the sky. Some of the intoxicated zombies lying on the ground were reanimating with head-pounding groans. Both dragons agreed they should make themselves scarce before they were recognised. Unsure of where to actually look for a job, Spyro decided the temple was as good a place to start as any, so they headed back there.

When they arrived, most of the guards were either waking up their comrades, or standing at attention at their usual posts. But even though they looked primed for action, Spyro could tell they were still as awake as a rock. Their blank stares and wobbly leans gave it away. Regardless, their presence was enough to get some of the city folk to start vacating the premises.

Thankfully to Spyro, his hunches were correct, just inside one of the temple's narrower corridors, a wood-chip board hung abandoned on the walls. Fresh paper with recent job opening where pinned over torn, old ones, creating an increasingly mounting bulge. Who ever placed up the new ones obviously neglected to remove the out of date jobs.

No one ever actually stopped to look at these, so no one would care if Spyro were to take some now would they? He accidently ripped one off before remembering to take the pins out of about a dozen more leaflets, each detailing their job role, location and requirements.

They also stopped by Terrador's assistant, (Spyro thought they would be most organised and equipped to help at this hour of the day given their boss' attitude). After a brief surprise on her part of meeting Cynder, she retrieved what was requested and they parted ways.

By the end of it, they had gathered a few dozen fliers of a diverse work range. Cynder wasn't overly keen on the prospect of reading these over, but knew disgruntledly it would have to be done regardless.

They made their way into the central dining hall for the guards and employees of the temple, deciding to fit some breakfast in while they were at it.

An expansive hall stretched out before them. The same tiled floor behind them leaked into this room as well, scratched and scuffed by dragon claws over the years, so much so that even the heavy polish applied a few days ago failed to mask the many indents.

Four thick, marble-white columns with simple markings sat organised in the room, several metres apart. Dozens of birch tables and chairs laid scattered about, adding to the whiteness of the gargantuan room. Some of these tables were already occupied by guards, getting in their morning meal before starting their monotone routine of patrolling.

Most of the room was lit by candles screwed into the walls, with the only natural light coming in being from the stained glass dome above casting different shades of colour onto the walls.

To their right, a hollowed out section with smoke occasionally flowing out and sizzling sounds indicated the kitchen.

They grabbed a simple plate of cooked, plain filleted salmon per Cynder's request, paid by Spyro. Then the duo grabbed a seat near the far back, away from view and hopefully away from interruption.

Cynder politely offered Spyro the first piece, but having recently gulped down his breakfast earlier, declined and offered his section to her. The black dragoness happily obliged and began the important task of taking large bites out of the poor fish. While Spyro did wish she slowed down a little, he couldn't help but appreciate the enthusiasm for something so uncomplicated. He waited for Cynder to finish her important meal. A delighted smile made its way onto her face as the silver tail end of the fish was swallowed down her gullet. However, this quickly vanished when Spyro started droning on about the different jobs in front of them like one of his agent's lists…

"This one here who looking for a full-time night-shift-"

"Pass!"

Spyro looked at her in bewilderment. "You can't just decide to pass up a job if you haven't heard it all."

"But it's a night time one, I bet no one is ever around at that time. Besides, it's also full-time which sounds long..."

"About eight hours a day, give or take."

"Exactly, I don't wanna be spending a third of my life doing something boring like _that_ ," she emphasized. "Not when I could be out there, flying across the night skies, taking in the twinkling stars." She fantasized.

"Oh? And what is 'that?' Spyro asked dourly.

"What?"

"What is the job you just turned down?"

"Errm…" Cynder went blank for a second. "I don't know."

"Exactly Cyn. If we're going to do this, you've got to take it seriously and actually listen. The job was to be a shop clerk..."

Cynder got distracted for a second by the use of her nickname, it still gave her an unseen chill any time he used it… "Exactly, no one wants to be on the night shift for a shop, you probably only ever get weirdos at that time, and I'm not comfortable doing that.."

"You can't just-...that isn't-..." Spyro silenced himself before he lost his cool. This was beginning to frustrate him. He decided to try a different approach. "Alright, what is your dream job? What requirements would this 'perfect' job need?" Spyro patiently elaborated.

"Firstly, no night shift, it has to be during day." Cynder begun counting the points the on her talons.

Spyro nodded, so far that was reasonable, most jobs were day-time based.

"Secondly, no more than a couple of hours every few days, preferably between breakfast and lunch, but also needs to be flexible."

A face depicting farfetched confusion crinkled onto Spyro's face as the demands went from sensible to mad in one sentence…

"Lastly, it has to be enjoyable, there is no point doing a job if you don't enjoy it. If i don't like the sound of it, I'm not picking it."

This was again, another rational point, but it was the middle one that irked Spyro the most by far. "Can we maybe waver the second point, to at least maybe four hours? Then at least-"

"Nope. Two hours or less."

Spyro clenched his talon slightly without her seeing. He didn't want to upset her by seeming impatient, but at the same time he wished there was an easier way to tell her that with her current conditions...no one would ever hire her. This made him feel sad. Regardless, he hoped by showing her these jobs she might realise that on her own. "Let me see if any of these jobs meets your expectations."

Spyro skim-read through the leaflets, picking out the key points and and quickly writing off each and every one of them. It was but a couple of minutes that Spyro got through them, much to Cynder's surprise.

"So, which ones are available?" Cynder asked.

"None of them," Spyro replied, tapping his claws on the table and awaiting a response.

"None of them?!" Cynder repeated, obviously confused.

Spyro nodded. He tried to put what he was going to say next delicately… "You might want to consider the fact that your criteria is a bit...too limiting…?"

"Well then, what would you do?"

Spyro breathed a sigh of relief now that she was listening. "Well considering you're only just returned, you will need to find your footing, and until you find your feet, the only real way is for you to find a full-time job. At least until you get yourself an apartment of place of sleep, be able to steadily feed yourself and also have enough left over should something bad happen, which I highly doubt with you but you never know…"

All this talk made Cynder cringe away, she didn't want to work, she wanted to fly and just spend time with Spyro without the worries. She left those behind when she rid herself of her demons. Yet here Spyro was, compiling more fattening troubles on her greased up plate until it was ready to spill over. With an exasperated sigh she responded, "do I seriously need a job?"

Spyro begrudgingly tightened his claw into a fist, this was really beginning to grind his gears. He tried to mask his annoyance, but streaks begun leaking through his without a word got up, and walked a few steps into the corner, leaving a perplexed Cynder to stare on. "Spyro? Are you okay?"

Spyro ignored her. He took a deep breathe in… and let it out. He then spun around again and returned to his seat without a word.

"Spyro?"

"Right, let's try this again..." There was an air of sterness about him now, one that made Cynder feel slightly cautious.

"Spyro, have I done something to offend you?" she queried softly.

"No of course not. Sorry, I'm just tired and need a moment to recollect myself, it happens all the time," he lied. He looked directly at her, hoping she bought it. "Anyway, how do you plan on looking after yourself?"

Cynder pondered thoughtly. "Well I could always hunt my own food, I'm sure you would happily help, get you outside a bit more, maybe have some fun while we are at it. And anyway, I can always just sleep outside, I don't mind, and I get to admire the stars every night. I do miss when we used to do that, back when we were heroes..."

Spyro once more cursed to the ancestors. "You can't hunt on Warfang territory without a licence. Plus, I won't let you sleep outside, that isn't right, besides your better than that. Look, I get it. This is boring, and it will only continue being that, but we got to do this. Solaria tells me that if you want to get something out of the city, you got to put something into it first. So she did this with me, and now I'm doing it with you."

"Solaria sounds like a real bore, no wonder you're more wound up than a spring."

Spyro glared at Cynder, something he thought he wouldn't ever have to do in his lifetime… Cynder realised what she had said and immediately tried to rewind what she had said. "I'm- I'm sorry, Spyro. It was meant as a joke. I'm sure Solaria can be fun, and just acts tough when she needs to." She felt like an inch tall, cowering under Spyro's scolding scowl.

The purple drake forcibly pushed the chair he was sitting on back, and turned his glare away from the dragoness, not even offering a second look. He marched directly towards the door out. Very few people noticed them before, but the few up close quickly got out of the way. Spyro was a nice guy, but when he got angry, you know something must have seriously rubbed him the wrong way.

Cynder tried to catch up, to make amends and sooth the storm she had conjured up. A face of pure panic etched onto her features. She grasped him on the shoulder.

Spyro spun around. "What?!" his voice boomed, louder than he realised. He looked around, realising people were staring in shock and awkwardness, only shying away when he glared back. He lowered his tone. "What?" he whispered irate.

"Look, I'm sorry. I'll pick this first job I see!" she squeaked, trying anything to calm him. However, this only further enraged him.

"Listen, Cynder. The the world doesn't revolve around us anymore. We can't rely on fate to set the path for us anymore. Yet that doesn't mean we can just kick back and relax either. We may have been heroes once but that was _years_ ago. You might not have realised this yet but we aren't children or saviours anymore, we can't just play around all day until the next day. We're adults in the real world, a place where you _have_ to get a job, and you _have_ to give to the people… No more of this childness... That world you described, where you can fly uncaring through the night? It doesn't exist, not anymore. You need to get a job, no question. Which is why you need to think hard about what you pick, because once you do, there's no going back. So I suggest you head back to that table and start looking very closely at the jobs I gave you and pick one… I gotta go…" he ended sourly.

Cynder was gobsmacked, like she had just been hit in the face by the punch of a golem. A backbreaking burden collapsed itself onto her and she realised the extent of what Spyro had just yelled at her, shocked by his anger and numbed by his tone. She never thought Spyro would speak out like that to anyone, let alone her...

She was pushed out of her emotionless pit when she saw Spyro leaving again, she didn't want to believe Spyro was this harsh. She caught up with him once more. "Please, Spyro, let me make this up to you, let me come with you at least."

Spyro turned around once more, irked by her persistent interruptions. "No, Cynder. You can't come with me, not only because you can't since people have _other_ obligations besides their friends, like their jobs – get one and you'll understand – and maybe we can see eye to eye once more. But as it is... I just don't want to talk to you right now…" Spyro's anger dripped away to sadness. "I want to help you, Cynder, but you won't budge at all. I'm trying to stop you making the same mistake I did…. The more you push against the system,the harder it pushes you back...and then you become trapped like me…"

Spyro slinked away sadly, having gotten that out to the world, now sitting ugly like a big fat elephant in the room, blocking Cynder from approaching anymore.

She sat there with her maw open, the words stinging like a scorpion's toxin. She watched defeated as Spyro hobbled out of the room...

 **Hey all, sorry for the delay, i decided due to my current lifestyle, I can't reliably follow a sceldule. But here is a new chapter, longer than usual which I hope you all enjoy!**


	11. Heartfelt Pain

Heartfelt Pain

Today wasn't the best for Solaria either. All was fine in the morning: get up, feed herself and her hatchling, sort herself out so she at least looked presentable, and finally wait for that fat oaf of a bear to turn up so she could leave herself…

That was standard though. It was what always happened after a break that ground her gears, when everyone else resumed their work. Then, all of a sudden, problems from the last three days flooded onto her table. She sat in her small office, skimming through the tower of reports on her table, each one detailing one of the city's smaller problems. She felt like that, of the four guardians, she dealt with the most citizen quarrels, and that they purposefully redirected some of their own to her while they focused on the larger problems of the city. Not that she could complain. She had tried several times to be involved in the larger politics, but found it too confusing for someone as inexperienced as her, where you had to consider the views of many and come to a solution that met the criteria of several participating parties. Here, at least, it was mostly between two people and easier to decide who was right and wrong along with what needed to happen.

However, this was not what was plaguing her mind today. It was Spyro. Last night in her opinion...was atrocious. She was used to him being null, but last night was unacceptable, especially considering it was their celebration. In previous years he had gradually been getting discourteous, but last night was the pinnacle of it, and she'd had enough.

She was a cross between angry and disappointed at him. Solaria didn't know why he was acting like this, or what could be done to change it. But something needed to be done, otherwise it would jeopardise their marriage...and she didn't want that. She loved him and their one son more than anything, but this was becoming too difficult to bare, even for her.

Something needed to be done, but she didn't know what...and that scared her.

She slumped in her cushioned seat and took a moment to observe her office. Her thick oak desk took up a chunk of the space. The desk had several drawers either side of the foot space facing away from the door, gold-coated handles attached to open them. Behind her, two large candelabras stood behind her in opposing corners, illuminating an otherwise dark room. Two wooden chairs sat opposite her so moles could berate her in comfort while dragons sat behind them. A row of locked cabinets lined the wall to her left, made of reinforced steel and used to store the more important files and documents. Lastly, a durable beech door with a small, wired window was hinged to the doorway, designed to resist impacts should the citizen wish to leave the office in a childish tantrum.

Solaria heard heavy footsteps approaching from down the hallway and sighed begrudgingly. It wasn't so long ago the last person came.

However, as the footsteps got closer, a rhythmic pattern could be made out, one that Solaria knew very well. Sure enough, a familiar ice guardian entered her office, taking up a vast amount of room.

"An excellent morning to you, Mrs. Solaria. How are you faring today? I hope yesterday was as splendid an evening as you planned?"

Solaria sighed. "Morning, Cyril. I'm afraid yesterday was a disaster," she replied bluntly.

"Oh, and why was that?" Cyril pretended to question, when in reality he knew full well what the issue was. He was just trying not to be assumptious and let Solaria get it out on her own.

"It's Spyro." She planted her elbows on the desk and slumped her head onto her paws.

"That bothersome issue once again? Am I correct in assuming he didn't partake in the festivities as much as you wanted him to?"

Cyril acted as a sort of sponge for the young dragoness, absorbing her anger and pent-up frustration while returning spouts of wisdom. Of course this was an internal affair, one that Solaria didn't want anyone taking direct partage in, so Cyril could only do so much. But he understood her woes and even felt a bit disheartened himself about the matter. He remembered the purple dragon's optimism, how he would defy even the world's destruction so that the rest could live in peace. It even made him feel young again. But as the years ticked by, that slowly changed, the youth oozed out of him and he became a shadow of a once glorious light.

Still, it was Solaria who felt the worst of the darkness, and as such it was his duty to remain that beacon for her.

"I just don't know what to do with him anymore. I try again and again to get his attention, but each time he just looks back like I'm a distraction. I'm scared that I'm losing him..." Her eyes lowered to the desk, unable to maintain the conversation when she felt so pathetic.

This was worse than what Cyril was used to. Normally Solaria would berate or be angry at the purple dragon...but never felt like giving up.

"I just don't know what to do anymore…" she repeated, her words trailing off at the end.

"Enlighten me with the more jolly events that happened yesterday," Cyril pepped up, he lowered his old body onto his stomach, so that he could meet the dragoness' eye level.

"Huh? Why?"

"I find that if ever I have a dreary day, whether due to the rabble or Volteer's incessant rambling, I reflect on the positives to counter the negatives. So, go on, my dear, what happened? I am all ears," he said with a gentle smile.

"Well, I guess there was a moment last night when everything was just peaceful. I leaned onto him and he just looked at peace, not with that frown he carries everywhere. Then there was also this nice old lady I met in the market yesterday, she didn't say anything but she sold me this beautiful necklace. But then I got into an argument with Spyro over it-"

"The good memories, Mrs. Solaria," Cyril reprimanded.

"Right, sorry. So anyway, there was also another caring moment between us when I mistakenly thought Spyro was cheating on me with Cynder. But-"

"I apologise for my interruption, but did you say _Cynder_?" That was a name Cyril hadn't heard much of in the last few years, but he was sure he misheard.

"Yes, I did. It was weird if I'm honest and quite annoying. Spyro allowed her into our house without a second thought or anything. But not only that, he thought it was okay to give her my favourite necklace?! I mean what is up with that, she was gone for a good ten years and suddenly just turns up, and Spyro acts like there is nothing wrong or even anything suspicious about that!"

Cyril had stopped listening at this point, and was enveloped by his mind. Old memories returned as he dusted off the old folders in his mind. While at first he wasn't so keen on having the old Terror of the Skies residing in the temple, a lot changed between then and now. All he had now for her was praise and good words ever since she and Spyro saved the world…

He had wanted to say all these kind things years ago, but was left disappointed when she vanished the day after… But now she was back, and he could say all those nice things he had pent up. He shuddered like he was two-hundred years younger, he couldn't wait to leave Volteer speechless with the news.

"Excuse me, Cyril?" Solaria called out, somewhat cross that even Cyril was ignoring her now.

Cyril snapped out of his thoughts. "My apologies, Mrs. Solaria, my thoughts were elsewhere. When did you see Miss Cynder last? I would be exhilarated to see her."

Solaria was left with a dour look upon her as she let out a low growl of exasperation. Even Cyril was acting like nothing was strange, which annoyed her almost as much as how excited Spyro was yesterday... "I only saw her briefly yesterday, not sure where she is now."

"Well, I do hope she reveals herself in due time. I do not think the celebrations are the same without her after all. What a marvellous time for her to come back though."

"Can we get back to the subject at hand, please?"

Cyril looked back to her, seeing that she was not as excited as her about the turn of events. "Errm, of course. The matter about Spyro, yes." In the back of his head, thoughts of meeting the delightful dragoness were still taking his fancy.

"What would you do if you were me?" Solaria was too worked up for sadness to steer her emotions, thus giving her tone the blunt and direct attitude.

"If I was you?" Cyril look perplexed at the question, secretly hoping this question wasn't what she was directing at.

"Yes, if you were in my scales, what would you do help win Spyro back?"

Cyril breathed inwardly. Not many dragons could get through his proud nature and make him feel uncomfortable, but Solaria was one of them. "I do not believe I am qualified for that question. Perhaps ask one of the other more-experienced guardians in the complicated field of love that question?"

"Really?" Solaria crossed her claws sarcastically. "I highly doubt that. Terrador once had a girlfriend who cheated on him while he was on term in war, and vowed he could never love again or risk being heart broken once more. Volteer is too fixated on his experiments and work, and even if he did go on a date, he probably would talk about quantum physics when his date was going on about flowers. You on the other hand, Cyril, are the only one besides myself who has actually been married. So, tell me again how you aren't qualified?"

Cyril had mixed feelings about her attitude. It was great when trying to resolve conflicts. As it was both giving her authority and also providing facts, it meant that Solaria wasn't a door mat when it came to being a guardian. But it also meant she wasn't afraid to use it on her friends and colleagues, which came off as arrogant and rude. This was one of those times… All he could do now was just hopefully come up with a solution to appease the dragoness.

She was right about one thing though, Cyril was the only guardian outside of Ignitus who had ever gotten married, even if the one he married turned out to be a filthy gold digger.

Before he could suggest anything, the red guardian intervened once more. However, she was much more calculating and less demeanouring. " It can't just be subtle actions here and there either, they don't work. I need a plan. Something bold, perhaps."

Cyril couldn't help but subtly shake his head at her irrational thoughts. Though he couldn't blame her, she had been under a lot of stress recently. What, with trying to raise a child, coax her husband into stepping up, and on top of that trying to uphold her duties to the city, which in itself was a full time commitment to any standard guardian. To last this long without having a mental breakdown was commendable to say at the least. Perhaps she needed a break from all this.

Then he had an idea.

"Mrs Solaria, why don't you have a break from all this demanding posterities? You of all people have certainly earned the time. A week I would say, starting this afternoon. Perhaps a holiday with young Master Spyro is what you both need?"

Solaria listened carefully, the prospect of it did resonate nicely with her. Some time away with just her, him and their beloved son sounded like what they needed. He was always complaining about his job, so she doubted he would complain. However, several problems still posed an obstacle. With a dubious look upon her, she replied "But what about my work, it will just build up and then I'll never be able to catch up."

"Leave that for us to fathom about. I'm sure us guardians can handle a few measly days of extra chores, just as I am sure Volteer and Terrador will understand the gravity of the situation." The wholehearted smile plastered on his face convinced Solaria enough in that section. However, there was one other issue that still irked her. "But what about Spyro, even though he will agree to this… Burrow will be highly insistent he doesn't, especially a week. He would only ever let Spyro go if it was an emergency..."

Cyril frowned at that name. He despised that mole, always demanding and pulling poor Spyro this way and that, not giving a damn what Spyro was doing at the time. Even on weekends he would drag Spyro away, just so he could make more money for himself, (Though this wasn't true, as Burrow often let Spyro leave at a minutes notice, should he deem it worth it). He even partly blamed that mole for the way Spyro had been acting. Regardless, if there was one thing Cyril could smugly say about him, it was that the mole had no real authority or power.

"I do not think that should be an issue, would you say? We are guardians after all and what we say goes. Regardless, does this not constitute as an emergency?"

This part dawned on Solaria. This was an emergency, her marriage could be at stake if she didn't do this. With a smile she nodded. "Yes, this is an emergency! Thank you, Cyril. "

"It is my utmost pleasure, Mrs. Solaria. You know the standard protocol; fill out the holiday form, alert your assistant to redirect any new cases to us, so on and so forth. But most importantly, Mrs. Solaria, enjoy your quiet time together. Perhaps you will find that spark in your romance once more."

"I will do. Thank you again, Cyril."

Cyril politely nodded before rising off his stomach. He picked up the stack of papers on the desk and held them carefully under one claw. They almost looked tiny when held by Cyril. He then reversed out the office, carefully peeking between the tiny gap between the doorway and himself.

Once the blue guardian was out of sight, Solaria set about preparing for departure. She breathed relievingly, knowing that the work was literally taken away from her. She then alerted her assistant to the sudden change, who although was confused to begin with, understood. She told him to continue their duties, but alert her of anything major the instant they knew. To finish the morning off, she savoured filling out the holiday form, signing it herself and storing it away in her personal folder.

Now it was time to find Spyro.

 **Hey all, this chapter is purposefully shorter since any more would just cram the chapter longer than I would like it. Regardless hoped you enjoyed and until next time.**


	12. Disgruntlement

Disgruntlement

Spyro had never meant to say those things to her. He had thought them, but they were never meant to escape his maw. But now that they had, a welling sense of guilt and regret hovered centrally in his head. The look of hurt on her pretty face sat heavily on him.

He spent the next two hours with his head hanging glumly, though he wasn't allowed to sulk in a corner of the room because Burrow had said so. He had been dragged down to the first of several venues of the afternoon. He was feeling thirsty, so he waited in the punch line of the joke this venue was. It was still as glorious as ever, but it was bland to Spyro, who had seen it hundreds of times. It wasn't long after his arrival that the first of many guests started hounding him.

He had adorned his usual garnishment, a simple silver necklace and a couple of gold rings, each with a tiny ruby embedded in the centre. Just something small and lightweight to help him blend into the crowds without coming off as tacky.

"Ah, Master Spyro. I am hosting a celebratory ball at my mansion this coming weekend and would be delighted if you could make it," one particularly wealthy mole told him.

"Nonsense, my boy," another perked up. "You should come by my lavish place this weekend instead. We are staging the grandest wedding for my son and it would be your honour to attend."

The obnoxiousness of these people always left a bitter taste in his mouth, always trying to win one of the most influential people in the city over to their side (even if Spyro didn't feel like that influential at times). Yet he couldn't be rude or comment about them, unfortunately. Already he was feeling invaded and they were only moving closer; all he wanted was a way out. Thankfully, just beyond the moles dressed as suit penguins, a familiar dragoness caught his eye.

A sapphire dragoness by the name of Lazuli wandered by. She saw him as well. With a slight head motion, she indicated for the drake to follow her to a quiet corner of the room.

Spyro only saw this dragoness at these venues, but she was one of the few he genuinely liked. She was of the rare combination of wealthy, humble and not fawning over Spyro every waking moment.

Spyro obliged. He gently pushed past the moles, careful to resist the urge to 'accidentally' topple one or two over as he did, and made his way over the dragoness. The march of penguins pursued, but he ignored them. He joined her at the table as she sipped her rosé.

She was gorgeous and well known amongst the rich, since she'd taken over her father's mining business in a region near the volcanic section of Boyzitbig. The company had prospered more under her guidance, even having expanded the project with more shafts and workforce. She herself had eight ivory horns that pointed upwards, curving ever so slightly backwards. Her scales were a sapphire blue with an aquamarine underbelly, her sleek frame also attuned to this beauty.

"Glad to see a friendly face amongst among all this money throwing," she said. "I swear, if these people were any more eager to chuck their earnings down the drain there would be gems flying everywhere."

Spyro chortled. "At least you can keep your wallet in check, unlike your other assets."

Lazuli pretended to look offended and playfully slapped his paw. "You don't say that about a lady."

Again, Spyro let out a dry chuckle. "So, have you bedded anyone recently?" She was one of the few he could just have silly conversations with, this one being the most common. To mix things up she was a dragoness who liked other 'nesses,' which had led to some fun talks.

The dragoness gasped. "What makes you think I have? ...Oh, who am I kidding, I gotta put these looks to _some_ use."

Correction, make that humble sometimes. She just didn't rub it in everyone's faces like others Spyro had met.

"So, now that we have re-established you do have a bedding habit, any good ones?"

"Well, the market last week – excuse me for a second, Spyro." She bent her head down to one of the earlier moles now prodding Spyro with a cane. She fashioned a scowl on her face. "Excuse me, Sir, don't you think that's a bit rude? Besides, can't you see he's talking to me?"

The mole huffed indignantly. "I do believe you are the rude one, Miss. He was talking to me before you snatched –" The mole shut up when a singular ice spike smacked onto the floor just shy of his feet. The shard toppled onto its side while the mole took a displeased step back.

"Now, make yourself scarce."

The mole grumbled before hobbling off. Lazuli swept the cold ice under the table with her tail. She watched sternly to make sure the scuttling roach was actually leaving and not performing a u-turn, then turned back to Spyro. "Sorry about that, couldn't help but notice him pestering you."

"Thanks for that. Burrow isn't too keen on me telling them to go away, says it drives away potential business."

"I know, I know. Honestly, I don't know how you put up with parties all days. I can barely put up with just the one."

"I admit it is annoying, but after a few years you kind of learn to put up with it and just move on," Spyro replied nonchalantly.

Lazuli's face twisted in a slight grimace. "That doesn't sound too healthy, though."

Spyro shrugged. "I can contain it most of the time, though sometimes it does come out. But I try to always do it away from everyone."

She still wasn't convinced but let it slide anyway. "Alright, if you say so. But if you ever need someone to talk to..."

"Thanks, but I'm alright. It's a bit more complicated than that, unfortunately. Anyway, you were saying, about the –"

"Excuse me, Spyro, sir," a voice called from behind with the tone of an old-fashioned announcer. Yet it belonged to a fairly young mole, barely out of school and already a well-known news reporter. One that Spyro unfortunately encountered quite often. Spyro didn't bother to turn around, though Lazuli also gave this new interruption the same frown. Undeterred, the mole forced out his question. "Is it true that the dragoness known as _Cynder_ has made a reappearance in Warfang?"

Spyro spun around at the name. Bad mistake.

The small mole then barraged him with ridiculous questions, ready to take down anything that could be used as an answer on his little notepad and pencil. "Where has she been for the last decade? Apparently you and her had an argument. What was it over? Is it true you are having an affair with her?"

Spyro growled as he turned his head away. " _Of course they know she's back! Nothing ever escapes them, does it? Now they're hounding me, expecting me to know all the tiny bloody details._ " What really irked him, though, was the last question. They would throw any stupid rumour out there just to get a response, anything to make a 'good' story. However, Spyro had dealt with enough of these stupid situations to know the best thing to do was shut up and ignore them.

"Spyro, sir. Can I please have a response to my questions?" the grating voice continued.

Lazuli once more stepped in to clear away the annoyance. "He has no reply."

The mole immediately snapped his attention to her. "Ma'am, do you have anything to say about these circumstances?"

"I also don't have any comments. Now, can you please move along and stop annoying us?" She used her tail once more to forcibly move the mole back, causing him to hobble backwards, not enough to fall but enough to get him away.

The mole thankfully gave up in his endeavour...for now.

Lazuli noticed Spyro was much less sociable. His face revealed a mix of anger and disappointment. However, she would be lying if she said that the mention of Cynder didn't catch her interest.

"I apologise if this is a touchy subject, but did the mole mention Cynder?"

Spyro let out a low sigh. Before, the ruckus of the party had kept his mind away from her, but now the mere mention brought back those regrets. "Yeah, she is. But she doesn't really want to talk to me right now."

"Ah, what's wrong? She upset you have a new wife now? From what I heard, before she vanished, you two were a match made in heaven."

Spyro responded with an 'I-don't-want-to-talk-about-that' face.

"Right…"

"It isn't about that, no. What it was, I yelled at her when she wasn't taking things seriously."

Lazuli frowned. "Not like you to yell at someone, especially her of all people, I would've thought. What was she not taking seriously?"

"Everything, really. I was trying to help her settle in and search for a job, but she kept pushing away everything I tried offering her. It just frustrated me." Spyro briefly stared off into space, not taking in anything and just reminiscing the hurtful words he'd said.

"Spyro, you can't blame her for being like that." The drake looked back at her, only to see her with a sincere frown on her face. "She's been gone for ten years, so it's no surprise she doesn't understand the way the city works. She's probably one of those souls that prefers the open world and, from my experience, they don't take too well to being held down by city life. But just give her a little time and patience. I'm sure she'll come around."

This part dawned on Spyro. It was true; Cynder had spent ten years and, in fact, all her life away from the city lifestyle, out there in the wild and only really worrying about herself, so it made sense that she wasn't serious about something she didn't understand. However, it didn't change the fact that her attitude would need to change. "But what do I do?"

"First, you apologise, even treat her to lunch if you really want to convince her you're sorry. Then try to reiterate your points. Like I said, she will settle in, but she just needs time, alright?"

Spyro thought this through carefully. Time was something Spyro never accounted for when it came to tasks; he always tried to get them done as soon as possible. Perhaps some people just didn't operate like that.

"Alright." He managed a slight smile towards her. "Thanks."

"No problem, just don't leave the apology too late. Can't keep a girl waiting on you."

"I – We're – I have –" he stuttered. "We're not like that! I have a wife."

What started out as sniggering quickly grew into a heavy chuckle from Lazuli when Spyro realised he'd fallen for her trap. A slice of vengeance for his earlier comment.

Their conversation wandered from place to place for the next half-hour, jumping from bedrooms to politics and back to bedrooms. They didn't have a lot to talk about, but it was still enjoyable.

* * *

Eventually, Spyro was pried away from his companion by his agent and they skipped over to their next venue. The afternoon had come, and the sun sat centrally in the sky, beating down heavy wafts of dry hot air. A heat wave had struck the city and many of the furrier residents were feeling it. They panted under their coats and waved colourful fans to cool themselves off. The dragons, the fire and ice ones in particular, barely batted an eyelid.

It was a bit of a trek, but Spyro appreciated the walk. In his head, he was planning how he would apologise to Cynder. He knew she was a fan of venison, though that was more of a dinner meal than a lunch meal. _"Maybe dinner would be better, then,"_ he thought.

While he clattered around his head, his body was put into autopilot, following the brown and red smudge in his peripheral vision that was his agent in a crimson suit. But, before he knew it, they had arrived at their next locale. A ballroom, similar to the one he had just been at, but not as decorated.

He sighed to himself resentfully, and prepared for round two of mingling, although this time there would be no dragoness to save him. He steeled himself and mustered a low smile. His agent pushed open the door.

Inside, the foyer was decorated in colours depicting false cheeriness. But that wasn't what Spyro was focused on. Instead, just to the left, talking to an older electric drake, was a red dragoness he was all too familiar with – Solaria. Why she was here, though, he didn't know. Often it meant he was in some sort of trouble. He wasn't surprised she'd found him; she had done so before by meeting with Burrow's employer and getting hold of his daily schedule.

However, there was a sort of smile on her, maybe because she hadn't seen him yet? Regardless, he approached.

Burrow knew instantly this was family business, and as such always let these types of interruptions by. Instead he made it his duty to prevent anyone stupid enough from interrupting a guardian and the purple dragon.

Even though Spyro was almost within breathing distance, Solaria still hadn't noticed him. It was only when the older gentleman diverted his eyes over that she turned. The yellow dragon politely excused himself with a bow before disappearing behind the door to the main hall.

"There you are," Solaria chirped. She was still smiling.

Spyro stared without looking suspicious. Under these circumstances she was never usually this bright and cheery. "What are you doing here?"

Her smile vanished. "We need to talk."

" _There it is,"_ he thought melancholically. "What is it?"

Solaria double-checked the room, but only Burrow remained. Content that no one was eavesdropping, she proceeded. "Last night, Spyro, wasn't the best night, if I'm honest."

Spyro immediately felt a twinge of guilt ride down his spine. He had completely forgotten about last night and how frustrated Solaria was becoming. He admitted that he hadn't been the best companion that night, but even worse was that it wasn't the first time. In fact, it'd happened so many times he had lost count. This also wasn't the first time she had brought this up. To him, this was yet another pointless reprimandation about how he wasn't committing enough to the relationship. But the real kicker was, he didn't feel any lasting guilt. He'd had the exact same conversation so many times that the effects barely registered with him anymore. They just became another heavy weight on his weary shoulders.

He loved his wife, and she was really pleasant to be around when neither of them were tired. But she just didn't understand the corruption he constantly had to face. The nobles and politicians and their lies and plans hidden beneath a thin veil of words and charisma, trying to win the favour of the purple dragon to bolster their own ends. It wore the drake down, mentally and physically. So, at the end of the day, sometimes he just wanted to go to bed, even if he still had a duty at home.

He wanted to help, but his energy was just gone. Yet that didn't stop Solaria's fiery temper from scorching him. He didn't want to argue back, not only because he lacked the drive to, but also more often than not their child was present… There were just so many little factors, so many tiny details he constantly thought about all of the time, that restrained and chained him down.

Spyro realised he was rambling in his head when Solaria stared back, not in anger but in disappointment.

She then went on to plead her case. "This is what I mean, Spyro. You never listen anymore… Which is why I think a holiday is overdue for the two of us. Work is getting strenuous and making homelife a little hostile, which is not what we want for our little one."

"So why are you telling me this now?" Spyro replied, confused by the sudden timing.

"Because it's for the best. Now, how many holiday days do you have left?"

"Seven."

"Perfect!" she exclaimed delightfully. "That gives us…" She counted up in her head while mumbling her words. " _A week minus the weekend, so that's five days. It's Thursday today, so by the time we use up all the days it will be next weekend, so..._ Eleven days! We can have an eleven-day holiday." She sounded satisfied with herself for that answer and stared at Spyro's blank expression, waiting for a response.

Behind Spyro's empty face, the gears were grinding with this news. He wasn't sure how to take it. At first, he was shocked. This had turned out differently than he'd expected. He had secretly been wanting a holiday, or even a break that didn't last a morning. Something to escape the looming shadows of work. However, he knew what this type of holiday would consist of. Mostly of doing the stuff _she_ wanted. Which meant no lay-ins or visiting beyond the city borders. He still felt trapped, but it was better than doing _this_ , he figured. Plus, like he'd thought earlier, she was calm and amicable to be around when neither of them were grumpy.

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before growing into a grin. "That sounds... great."

Solaria returned the gesture before nuzzling his cheek. "I knew you would like it."

However, there was still an issue to address. One that was hobbling over to them at that exact moment – Burrow.

He had overheard the majority of the conversation and was grizzled about it.

"Now hold on there, Spyro," he hastily commented. He stood in front of the duo, his hands firmly planted on his hips. "You can't just take a holiday, particularly with how busy this month is. I apologise, Mrs. Solaria, but I cannot allow Spyro to leave like this. You need to give two days' notice for every day of holiday you plan; it's in the contract if you read it. Particularly since this doesn't seem to be an emergency of any kind."

Solaria's grin stretched even wider. She _had_ read the contract a few years back when trying to find a similar loophole to the one she was going to use now. Last time she checked, there wasn't anything in regards to what Burrow stated and they both knew it. He was just hoping he could bluff it. "I think you'll find that it isn't in the contract, Mr. Burrow. You can double-check yourself. But, until then, Spyro is coming with me."

Normally Spyro didn't like it when people took pleasure in being right, but, in this instance, he couldn't help cracking his own smirk, especially since it was in his favour.

"Alright, alright, it doesn't, at least not yet. _I really need to chase up HR about updating this contract…"_

He then tried pleading with Spyro. "Listen, kid. You don't understand the backlash or work it will take to rectify this. People will be seething if you leave and it's mine and your hides that will get the frying. So I'm begging you, don't do this."

Spyro's smile vanished, replaced by a meek awkward half-smile. He felt culpable, staring into those beady little eyes, and was almost about to change his mind.

Solaria, though, thought he was just crying wolf. She had seen it done many times and knew the tell-tale signs. "Not likely, Burrow. Come on, Spyro, we should go. On the way through, we can pick up our son and head out to lunch together."

Solaria lead onwards, out of of the oak doors, not bothering to give the agent another look.

Spyro gave him one last apologetic look. He liked the mole, but he liked Solaria more right now. He followed her out, leaving the doors to swing and a furious mole now stomping around and throwing a tantrum, preparing himself for the furious slaughter to come...


	13. Big City, Small Problems

Big City, Small Problems

Cynder slumped her head against the oak table. She had moved from the cafeteria. Even before the argument, her presence was drawing too many unwanted gazes. She was becoming conscious of the fact that people were aware of her unannounced return. Now she hid in the temple's library, a vast expanse of knowledge and stories, yet only visited by sparse, quiet scholars. The perfect place for her to brood.

The black dragoness lurked at the end of one of the many vast aisles of books, sitting at a dusty table with the many posters Spyro had handed her previously. She had an old oil lamp with her that squeaked when the handle was lifted. There was a window above her, but due to the sun's position only a few stray beams seeped through.

She grabbed two sheets from the top of the pile she'd created and looked at them for the dozenth time, yet they only read the same. On one hand, she just wanted to pick one and get it over with already. But, at the same time, she couldn't make a rash decision that she would regret further down the line. One choice would make Spyro happy, the other would allow her to keep the freedom she cherished so much.

Her claws fell to the table, releasing the papers. They slid halfway across the wood before she planted her head once more on the solid oak.

There was another thing she couldn't wrap her head around. Spyro used to be the calmest, most understanding dragon she knew, but just now he blew up at the smallest thing, and that wasn't the only time; he'd also yelled at her when they'd finally reunited. Though, admittedly, she was in the wrong that time...

It was as if he had a lot of pent-up anger and even nudging him wrong would cause him to explode in rage.

" _What happened between now and ten years ago to make him like this…?"_ she thought. She wanted to help him, but she didn't know how. What was causing Spyro to behave like this?

Before she could further ponder this problem, she heard a heavy set of claws echo on the stone floors, though she ignored it. The dragon that was approaching was either an avid fan of the umbrella hat invention (the library had an entire row dedicated to this invention, including the history and failure of the product. How so many books had been written about one particular piece of garbage was beyond Cynder…), or had come here to find her, most likely the latter.

"By the Ancestors, it really is you," a voice centuries old, yet with the enthusiasm of youth coursing through, called out. Cynder turned and raised her head from her bleak slump to see a blue, battle-scarred drake wandering towards her.

A beam instantly stretched across Cynder's face. "Cyril!" She had been meaning to go find the guardians, but her task of searching for a job along with other plaguing thoughts clouded her mind.

"It has been a while, my dear. But to see you here before my old eyes... It does please this aged soul. Now, tell me, where have you been all this time?" Cyril had so many questions he wanted to ask the dragoness, but hadn't had the chance ever since she first disappeared on the night Spyro set out for the Well of Souls.

Cynder was very welcoming of this much needed distraction. She and Cyril first started out as only tolerant of each other, with Cyril believing Cynder was still influenced by the mistrust quickly eroded, though, leaving behind a pleasant friendship that left the guardian as her second favourite behind Ignitus.

"I was living with Ignitus on the White Isle-"

"Ignitus is alive?!" Cyril breathed in disbelief.

"Kind of. He's the chronicler now, so he won't be able to come here, if that is what you were wondering," Cynder explained.

"Ah, that is unfortunate." Cyril sighed. He raised his head to the window, almost as if he could see Ignitus' reflection staring back. Or perhaps he was looking beyond the glass and into the distance, knowing his friend was still out there. "Regardless, it is pleasant to know that my old companion is doing well."

Cynder nodded. "He is very proud of his role, and very proud to have known you and the others."

Cyril's smile creeped open a bit more as he continued to gaze out of the window.

"So, anyway, how did you find me? I doubt you are a fan of umbrella hats."

Cyril chuckled as he turned back to the dragoness. "Solaria informed me you had returned. After querying, my search guided me here." He noticed the pile of papers scattered across the table, as if a stack had just been pushed over. "What is all this, then?"

Cynder sighed and sunk slightly into her bog of gloominess. "Job posters… Spyro wants me to choose one. But if I'm being honest, none of them appeal to me. But if I don't pick one, he'll just yell at me again..." She rested her head on her paws, her eyes mellowing with sadness.

"Apologies, he yelled at you?" Cyril was no stranger to Spyro's anger, yet it still surprised him any time the purple dragon did explode.

Cynder looked up. "Yeah, I don't know what I did wrong, but he berated me for not taking things seriously. Does... Does this happen often?"

Cyril sighed. "I'm afraid so, my dear." He lowered his pale underbelly onto the cold stone and crossed his claws. "He's behaved like this for a few years now, progressively worsening over time."

It hurt Cynder inside to know this side of Spyro had been gradually taking over, slowly removing the sympathetic and kind dragon she once knew. "Do you know what started it?"

Cyril shook his head. "I'm afraid not. Everyone is aware of it, yet no dragon has the courage to ask. Anyone who does is met with a dissenting scowl and harsh words."

Cynder took her gaze away. " _Too bitter to even open up to those close to him…"_ However, she then remembered the enjoyable conversations they both had together. Obviously he wasn't that sour all the time, just sometimes.

"Anyway." Cyril's words drew Cynder out of thoughts as he attempted to divert the conversation elsewhere. "Perhaps I can be of some assistance in this endeavour of yours?"

"You don't have to. I wouldn't want to cause any more trouble with my problems," Cynder insisted.

"Nonsense, my dear." Cyril motioned with his claw. "I am on break and would be delighted to help. Now what is it that you want to get into?"

"I –" Cynder paused. "I don't know. I've looked these over hundreds of times already and not one of them appeals to me. It's just such a big change and I don't know if I'm ready for that yet."

Cyril let out another dry chuckle. "I think I understand, dear."

Cynder tilted her head, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. "You do?"

The ice guardian nodded in response. "Indeed. What I believe is that you've spent a long time alone out in the vast, feral wilds, without a plan, letting each day carve your path. But now you are here, preparing to settle down, you are uncertain on how to go about it."

She tapped her talons on the table, reminiscing over his words and how true they rung. "Yeah, you could be right, actually."

"In fact, you're not the first I've encountered like this. Ignitus used to be quite the wandering fellow. He wanted to explore the world first before even remotely fathoming his career. Ah, he was the only dragon who could tell tales with real passion. But I am diverting from the point. What I am saying is that you shouldn't self-loathe because of who you are. Choosing a career is not as easy as choosing your next meal."

She hadn't noticed it before, but Cyril's tone had changed quite a bit. It sounded more wise and less arrogant now, almost how Ignitus spoke. His words resonated deeply with the dragoness, helping her realise a buried truth. Even if it didn't relieve her of all sadness, it did lift some of it. She turned her head towards the looming guardian. "Thanks, Cyril. That makes me feel better. But… it doesn't solve my problem, unfortunately."

"Nothing to fuss over, my dear," Cyril assured. "What we need to establish now are your likes and dislikes."

"Spyro and I have been through this before. We already tried listing what I wanted from a job and... that didn't go so well."

Cyril shook his head. "No, not what your job preferences are. What you yourself are fond of. There is no point finding a job with the perfect hours if you spend them doing something you loathe."

This part made Cyril remember his earlier encounter with Solaria, and that made him cringe a little on the inside. Though, since he was having this conversation with none other than Cynder, that more than made up for the irritation he usually had with these types of talks. He deliberately hadn't told the other guardians yet so that he could sneak the first conversation in and also confirm that in actuality it was her.

Cynder retreated into her thoughts once more. "I suppose I like fighting..." She then grimaced. "But I suppose these days there's not really a use for that any longer. Spyro did say heroes aren't needed anymore…"

"Omit Spyro from your thoughts for a moment. In this particular instance, he doesn't matter, only you do. Besides, the realm will always need warriors to defend it. You can never know when the next frightful threat will rear its hideous head over the horizon."

"Right, got it. I suppose I also like receiving praise. I know it sounds like I'm trying to feed an ego, but I just do." She sheepishly grinned. She was trying hard to reflect these habits into ones that could be used in a job environment. Even if it hurt, Spyro's words had made her realise the importance of this decision. Plus, with Cyril sympathising, it greatly helped her confidence.

"Not in the slightest. I know all too well what it is like to have a proud nature, as you might have summarised," Cyril japed. "But applause is very important; it builds confidence in your role and also lets you know you're appreciated. Which you are very much in this city."

Cynder felt a bubble of happiness build inside. She had always been uncertain of the city's reaction to her, considering she had been on both extreme ends of morality. But hearing it from Cyril helped to ease some of her fears.

"Anything else you want to add?"

Cynder contemplated for a second. "If it isn't too much, I also like not knowing what tomorrow brings."

"Hmm, an enthusiast of the unknown. Not as inconspicuous as you would think. I do, however, believe I have the answer to your predicament."

"You do?" Cynder replied in surprise, a tint of excitement hidden in her tone.

Cyril nodded. "The city guard!" he announced, as if unveiling something grand. "They're always searching for the brightest and noblest of dragons to merge into their ranks."

Cynder couldn't help but be impressed, growing more excited by the prospect with each passing second.

"The training is ruthless and strenuous. But I have little doubt that one such as yourself would soar to the top in no time."

"I– I choose that option!" Cynder chirped eagerly.

The old guardian laughed cheerily at the optimism. "Excellent! Normally they host recruitment days on Monday, where you undertake a physical test and a mental health exam. However, I may be able to make you an exception and get them to test you today. Come, let us embark to my office."

Cynder sharply nodded with an eased grin spreading from one black cheek to the other. She pushed off the chair, shoving it across the stone with a sharp scraping sound that they both cringed to. "Sorry!"

"No worry, dear. I'll also clear up the tiny mess you left behind."

"Oh, uh, thank you!" Cynder repeated, realising he was referring to the pile of paper left strewn about the table.

"On you go, I will catch up."

Cynder nodded, squeezing past what little space Cyril had given even after he had leaned to the other side. She jogged down the aisle of books about umbrella hats, turning the corner when she reached the end.

Cyril descended into his thoughts as he started gathered up the loose sheets. Unlike Spyro, she hadn't changed much; she was still polite and intelligent. Though, she was a lot more confident in herself than the last time they'd talked.

By now he had sifted all the posters into a pile. However, not wanting to carry the sheets back to his office, he stuffed the papers between two random books. Only imbeciles and morons thought umbrella hats were a good idea. Those posters wouldn't be found for a long time.

It still irked him that Spyro would snap at her in such a way. He always spoke highly of her whenever her name came up. Perhaps he didn't know the purple dragon as well as he'd thought. Maybe he could try to visit him at some point soon, try and get him to open up a even a little. Spyro had been very tight-lipped when it came to such matters; as such, no one dared to pry.

It wasn't long until they reached his office. Cynder was curious as to where the posters vanished to, but Cyril only assured they weren't to be worried about anymore.

The office wasn't as lavish as Cynder predicted; maybe Cyril had also laid back on the need for constant pampering. There were still golden candlesticks and clean, blue banners signifying the ice element, but that was the extent of it.

Cyril opened up one drawer after another, where everything was ordered alphabetically. He pulled out a blank sheet, decorated with a border of flowers and thorns, and in the top left was Warfang's emblem – a hammer with a colourless dragon coiled around it.

"Normally Master Terrador handles such matters, but as he is still in a meeting, I will have to do," he mumbled to himself. He dipped his talon into a vial of black ink and began writing in the margins of the paper.

 _To Captain Adonis,_

 _I request for the bearer of this letter, Cynder, to undertake the physical and mental health exams today. She has a wealth of potential and I believe, under the proper guidance and training, she will make a valuable asset to you._

 _Deep regards,_

 _Cyril_

Underneath he put his signature. Afterwards he cleaned the stained talon with a nearby cloth. He neatly folded the letter in half and handed it to the patiently waiting dragoness.

"Hand this to Captain Adonis down at the barracks. He should have returned from his meal by now and keeping watch over the new recruits. You will find the barracks along the eastern wall of the city; it shouldn't be hard to miss. Lastly, when you are accepted into the training, address your superiors either by their titles followed by their names, or by sir or ma'am. It is a simple thing I know, but you would be surprised how many forget that."

Cynder nodded. "Thank you, again, for everything, Cyril."

"It is my pleasure, dear. Now, off you go. Adonis is not a fan of loitering." He gently waved a talon towards the door. "And do drop by from time to time. I would love the chance to converse."

"Will do." Cynder waved as she scampered out of the door.

* * *

The black dragoness twiddled her talons, waiting for captain Adonis to return with her results. She had done the physical test, which consisted of completing an obstacle course followed by combat against some orc dummies, and also a mental health check, to see if she was mentally secure enough to serve.

She felt like she had done well, and the small smile he'd worn since meeting her only seemed to confirm this.

Eventually, a lean but well-built adult fire drake emerged from behind the thick doors of his office. He was younger than Cynder had anticipated, and must have done well in life to become captain of Warfang's guard.

He approached her, carrying a neatly stacked collection of paper tied together with red string. His smile was still there, if a tiny bit wider. It appeared he had good news to bare.

"I have to say, Cynder, your results are most excellent," he commented. He turned over to the next page. "You absolutely aced the physical test, having shown high levels of stamina, speed and balance. Not only that, your combat skill is vastly higher than that of the average dragon; being able to fend off a dozen orc dummies at a time is almost unheard off."

Cynder tried to hide it, but no amount of modest thoughts could hide the grin on her face. While Cynder didn't want to admit it, this was the type of praise she was hoping for, where even the captain of Warfang's guard was stunned by her skills. Her favourite part was obviously the combat, where she could show off her flashier moves; it gave thrill to her life. The adrenaline rush and knowing that people were in awe of amazing combat power, that was what she was looking for.

"Anyway, I should calm myself before I prattle on." He turned over to the next page and paused. His smile faded, replaced with a emotionless frown. "As for your mental health exam, while not as impressive as your physical test, your result is adequate enough. But we can work on that."

This part surprised Cynder. "Sorry, but only adequate?"

Adonis nodded. "Yes. While your combat skills are superior to the average dragon, bolstered by your broad range of unique elements, you show a lack of care towards the situations you are in. This can put you and your fellow guards at risk. There are other issues as well, but we can talk about those at a later date."

Cynder was baffled by this. She got off her haunches and glared back in confusion. "Hang on. Lack of care, other issues? What are you talking about?"

Adonis was perplexed by the sudden change in mood. "I'm saying, during the combat segment of your test, you were showboating and enjoying fighting."

"But I was. It wasn't real, so of course I would enjoy it."

Adonis shook his head. His endearing smile fell to a serious frown. "You should never enjoy fighting. It should only ever be used as a last resort and never taken pleasure from. Even if it wasn't real, you should always take it seriously. I've seen dragons do what you do before, even against dummies they've suffered broken ribs and bones. Some have even gone to A&E from internal bleeding. If they're not ready for dummies, what chance do they have against people with knifes and claws? People die in these situations, the victim, the assailant. Even if you're the greatest fighter the realm has ever seen, one second of lapsed judgement is all it takes for an arrow to pierce your heart." He firmly placed a claw to his heart, pushing in to show how soft that spot of skin was. "That's how I lost a friend…"

He sighed and looked to the ground. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for that to come out. But, anyway... You have a lot of potential, Cynder; we just have a few kinks to smooth out and you may just become the best damn soldier in the entire Warfang Guard." His smile returned.

Throughout this, Cynder had kept a reserved face, neither happy nor sad. Only neutral and listening intently, not uttering a word.

"Now," Adonis continued, "go home and rest well. Tomorrow is a big day. You'll be introduced to your brothers and sisters in arms, and you're going to show them why you are called the Terror of the Skies."

Cynder cringed at that name. "I prefer not to be called that…"

Adonis nodded. "Understood. Would you prefer being called Cynder, Hero of Warfang?"

The dragoness chuckled. "Better, but Cynder will do."

"Very well. Tomorrow morning, just as the sun clears the horizon, I need you to be here. You'll report directly to me. You'll find me in the courtyard."

"To you?"

Adonis inclined his head. "Yes, I am going to be training you to become a part the guard, and let me tell you I only train the best. So consider it an honour."

"Yes… Sir," she quickly added, remembering what Cyril said earlier.

"Then off you go. Dismissed. I look forward to seeing you in the morning."

Captain Adonis turned away and marched back to his office, while Cynder headed towards the barrack's exit.

She was haunted by Adonis' words about not caring. It simply wasn't true. Of course she was serious when the situation demanded it, but she also knew the difference between a dangerous and hardly threatening scenario. Who cared if she enjoyed tossing a few orc dummies around with a tornado? No one liked them. Plus no one had a problem when people enjoy sparing, so why is it an issue here? It was almost like the conversation she and Spyro had earlier… Was everyone in this city like that? Was everyone cantankerous when it came to her idea of fun? She hoped not, because otherwise she didn't feel like she belonged in the city.

Regardless, she had a big day tomorrow, the next step in her life. She also hoped, at some point tomorrow, she could talk to Spyro and give him the good news. However, at this moment in time… a nap and a snack sounded perfect to relieve her of her stress.


	14. That Which Bothers

That Which Bothers

The dawning sun peered through the window, glaring into Solaria's eyes. She groggily squinted, grumbled, and rolled onto her other side. Her wing briefly touched the snoozing drake beside her. A small grin appeared on her maw; they didn't need to get up yet…

It made her happy seeing her husband still beside her at this hour.

This holiday had been going smoothly so far. They'd spent yesterday afternoon cleaning the massive house from top to bottom. But while they weren't done yet, it was giving the two time to unwind in each others' presence. Today she hoped Spyro could spend some time with Ignirius to make up for lost hours over the week. She had no doubt he would, of course. That bundle of joy was the fire in his soul, just like hers. Even if some nights he wanted to shut the world away, he always left a hatch open for their son.

She snuggled closer to her mate. He stirred slightly but didn't wake. She pulled the covers further over the two of them and fell back into a light sleep.

* * *

It was barely a half-hour later when Spyro rose from his slumber. Even though he knew he didn't have to get up, routine kicked in and evicted him from his sleep. He still felt tired mentally as well as physically, but attempting to force himself back to sleep was a useless endeavour.

He grudgingly crawled out of bed and out of the bedroom, carefully closing the door behind him.

Even in his half-conscious state, he couldn't help but be annoyed at the distance it took to get downstairs. He didn't know whether to thank or hate Cynder for making him notice it. Casting a semi-cautious look behind, he leapt over the balcony. He gently glided onto the floor in front of the kitchen and entered.

He set about his normal morning pattern, grabbing some breakfast and filling up the baby bottle with wreath-horn goat milk. It came from a territorial quadruped and their milk was said to be among the best for babies of any species. They're named so for the thorns that grow from their horns.

He then sat alone at the dining room table, crunching away at his breakfast while he waited for his mate to rise. He didn't have anything else to do as he was normally out the door before now, and the one thing on his agenda required speaking with his wife to get approval.

He wanted to go and see Cynder today, to apologise for his unjust reaction yesterday and make it up to her with dinner.

Thankfully, it wasn't too long before Solaria came down with their son. She grabbed the milk bottle, which Ignirius was reaching for with his little outstretched claws, and gave it to him. Their youngling was always more active in the morning than his parents.

"Morning," Solaria said as she walked by, followed by a yawn.

"Morning."

Both parents ghosted each other in the odd mornings they saw each other. The pair needed some time in the morning to properly wake up before even considering talking in sentences.

Spyro took the eager hatchling off his mate while she whipped up some food for herself. The young drake was all too happy to cuddle his father while practically inhaling the milk.

Eventually, though, both parents felt awake enough to communicate properly.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Solaria asked as she put away dishes from yesterday's dinner onto shelves.

"So and so. Still feeling tired, though." He put the giggling baby over his shoulder and started lightly patting his back.

Solaria raised an eyebrow, even though she wasn't looking at him. "Is that so? Never mind, you'll get plenty of chances to sleep. But today we're cleaning the rest of the house."

"Sure." Spyro hesitated on whether or not to ask the question, already envisioning the rejection. "I–"

Solaria turned, curious as to why he silenced himself. "What's that, sorry?"

"It's... it's nothing. Never mind."

Solaria tilted her head with a dubious smirk on her face. "Whenever you say it's nothing, it always means there's something. What is it you need?"

"It's nothing, I promise." He turned away, unable to meet her doubting gaze.

Solaria's smirk turned into a frown. She approached Spyro and put herself and her eyes in full view of his. "You know I don't like it when you keep secrets. C'mon, out with it."

Spyro sighed uncomfortably. "Alright. I was hoping that at some point today I could go find Cynder. We… we had an argument yesterday and I want to apologise to her."

The red dragoness shook her head, but held a smile on her lips. "And you didn't want to tell me that, why?"

Spyro bit his upper lip. "Because I know you don't like me near other females without you there."

Solaria tittered. "Spyro, that was years ago. I trust you enough to not go behind my back with other females."

"Even Cynder?"

She faltered. "I-I admit she does put me on my guard, but I know you well enough to know you wouldn't do that to me, right?"

Spyro nodded slightly. "Right..."

"Besides, that works out nicely, actually. I need to strip back and wax the floors today, which means I need you and Ignirius out of the house. Why not take him flying while you're out?"

Upon hearing the word 'flying', Ignirius squirmed in his father's slipping grip with a sudden burst of energy. He attempted to climb over his dad to reach the one who'd said one of his favourite words.

Solaria giggled at Spyro's struggle and lowered her head. "You like that?" she said in a silly voice. "Does our lil' angel like... _flying_?"

Spyro laughed as little feet crawled all over his face.

"Sounds like a plan," Solaria mused. "Alright, when I get around to waxing the floors, I'll let you know. I will need you gone for a couple of hours while the wax dries. When you've gone for your flight and seen Cynder, why not go play in the park with him? I'm sure he would love to spend some time with you. Could you also get some groceries and pick up my necklace from the jewellers? It should be fixed by now. When you get back we can finish clearing the storage room together."

Spyro smiled as he nuzzled his son. "Of course."

"Good. I've also taken the liberty yesterday to send a message to Moneybags, letting him know he won't be needed for the next week and a bit." Solaria would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy sending that, knowing how dependent that obnoxious bear was on their money. "Anyway, once you're done here, could you get started on polishing the railing? I'll let you know when I'm about to strip the floors." As she finished her sentence, she vanished out the kitchen door.

As soon as she did, Spyro quietly despaired. This was yet another one-sided conversation that took place. Even though he got what he hoped for, it sapped the joy out of it since Solaria took his idea and piled on more tasks.

He took the now empty bottle away from his squirming son and placed it on the table. Ignirius began crying instantly. His favourite thing, although empty, was pried away and that was not fair in his opinion. His loud wailing grated on Spyro's nerves, yet he crumpled the annoyance into a ball and chucked it onto a mounting pile at the back of his mind. He then went about his day.

It wasn't long before Spyro was onto the first of his chores. After calming Ignirius and putting him into his playpen in the centre of the room, he started cleaning the long, encircling railing that covered the rampway and second floor. He sighed. Although this wasn't the hardest of jobs, it was meticulous and repetitive, having to clean between the many grooves and edges of the wrought iron bannister.

It took an hour to do half of it, wiping weeks of dust off the intricate and complex designs. Though, he didn't envy the job Solaria had.

She was clearing up the cluttered cupboards in the kitchen. Occasionally he could hear the clanging of metal pans and random words in place of profanity.

Though, eventually, she appeared from the kitchen carrying a stack of old black pots, most of which Spyro didn't recognise. Probably the reason she was getting rid of them;they'd never been used. She placed them on the floor beside the door and breathed deeply. She grinned contentedly at her job well done, despite knowing she wasn't done today.

She looked up to see Spyro staring back. "Right, I'm done here for the moment. I'm going to make a start on the floors if you wanted to go see Cynder. Just don't forget Ignirius and _please_ be back at a reasonable time."

Spyro smiled and nodded, putting a claw onto the railing and preparing to leap over. He remembered last second that she hated that and awkwardly feigned getting up and using the balcony as support. Solaria gazed back peculiarly at his unorthodox method.

Spyro sighed and walked along the long pathway leading downstairs. He gave Solaria a quick nuzzle as he passed, one she smiled gently at, and picked up his wriggling son once more. He slung a purple sack of gems around his neck before making his way out, waving farewell to his wife as he did so.

* * *

He stood in the doorway of his sanctuary, the only safe place away from the gleaning eyes of the paperazzi.

He had no idea where to begin looking for Cynder. After yesterday, he didn't know where or what she did, or how she had taken his appalling words. He hoped he hadn't chased her away...

He shook his head. His words were cruel, but Cynder was normally a resilient dragoness. Besides, he couldn't just jump to conclusions without even searching. The best place to start would be the inn she had been staying at.

Without further delay he took to the open air.

He could feel the ever watchful gazes of news reporters stalking him like his own shadow. He didn't understand why he was always the pinnacle of Warfang. Sure, he was famous, but so were a ton of other dragons. There were tycoons and… more tycoons. He sighed. Their stories were kind of the same. Either those who built their wealth upon nothing, or those who carried their family legacy.

There were also very few stories to be told outside of gossip. Natural events were an uncommon sight. Droughts never happened since the mountain the city was nestled in had a natural spring that supplied the people with water. Storms barely battered Warfang since it was so sheltered and the rain ran into the lower districts where no one important cared. Fires were rare since the entire city was made of stone.

Though, during the height of summer, where the temperature soared and sweltered, wildfires in the nearby Mosshill forest became a common sight. It was for this reason that fire dragons were forbidden from entering during the season, to reduce the odds of one starting, though those warnings went mostly ignored.

Spyro looked down below. His son smiled at the breeze rushing past his face, unfazed by the heights they were cruising at. Further beneath, several rickety stalls still stood, trying to grasp onto the tail-end of the Day of Heroes and sell off the last of their stock before making the long journey home.

It wasn't too long before he recognised the streets beneath him. He purposefully circled the area like a vulture, letting his son get the most out of this adrenaline rush. Ignirius was giggling and squealing, drawing the attention of those beneath them.

For a second, to the onlookers, it seemed like a large purple beast had snapped up a baby in its greedy claws. But then they realised it was the great Spyro doing one of his regular rounds with his child. The scattered crowds cheered, the memories of their hero still fresh in their mind, revitalised by the recent event.

Spyro rolled his eyes. He didn't even do anything and they cheered. He hastily descended into the street with the inn, heading inside before the people blocked him in. Keeping away from them was the best thing for him and them.

His son giggled on, oblivious to his father's disgruntlement.

Spyro closed the door behind him to help ward off unwanted bothers and approached the centre of the room. It was dark; candles were sparse, only illuminating the front desk and a couple of tables scattered around. The stone tiles were cold underneath his claws, even though the rest of the room felt tepid. They at least had been swept recently. A narrow stone staircase led upwards to the second floor.

"Could you please keep the door open, dear? It's awfully warm today. I will see to you in a moment," an elderly female voice called from around the corner of the counter.

Spyro grumbled and reluctantly opened the door behind him. Some people stood there, gawking at him like he had two heads and was doing backflips… But thankfully none of them approached. He turned back around, hoping this freakish reaction kept them glued in place, long enough for him to at least find Cynder.

An old mole hobbled around the corner. She wore a pink woollen dress with a tiny white apron tied around her waist. Her thick grey hair was tied into a bun. A thick pair of glasses were nestled on her face. "Thank you, dear. Now-"

Even with her poor eyesight, she saw eight foot of purple dragon standing before her, honouring her with his presence inside her very own inn. To see such a sight standing before made her beating heart flutter. "M-Master Spyro!?" she blurted out. She then saw the blurry, bubbly, tittering bundle of red joy in his hands. "And Master Ignirius! T-to what do I owe this grand delight? For you to grace me with your presence here?"

Her 'I just met a legend and I don't know what to do' reaction grated on Spyro's nerves like the screech of metal on stone. "Please, don't act that way," he grumbled.

The mole gasped in shock. "I apologise, Master Spyro. I didn't mean to act so flustered." She took a deep breath and composed herself. "How may I be of service to you?"

Spyro noticed her shaking like a leaf. Whether that was due to anticipation, fear, being old, or a combination of all three, he didn't know. He just wanted to get this over with and find Cynder. "I believe a dragoness named Cynder is staying here, is that true?"

The old lady brightened up. This was something she could actually help with.

"Ah, yes." The mole calmed down, much to Spyro's relief. "Such a lovely gal, that one. So excited about getting a new job; she told me all about it last night. That was such a pleasant talk. Such a delight to see such a happy young dragoness… So many youngsters these days groan about working and drown their sorrows in beer when life doesn't go their way. Sheesh."

Spyro wasn't in the mood to listen to a lady monologue the problems of today's youth. However, the fact that Cynder had a job, let alone one she was excited about, struck Spyro surprised. It reversed his mood about the situation and made him keen once more to see her. "Is she here?"

"No, dear. She left early this morning."

"Do you know where she went?" Spyro was longing to go. Not only to see Cynder, but also because his boy was getting upset about being trapped in a dark, dusty room. He was primed to go and the old lady could see this. It saddened her a little that he had to leave so soon, but she understood the hassles of parenthood.

"I do believe she said she joined the guard… I apologise for my uncertainty, dear. My memory isn't as fresh as it used to be."

" _The guard…"_ Spyro pondered before realising he was still taking up this old lady's time. "Sorry, Mrs. Thank you for your help, it's much appreciated."

The landlord noticed the improvement in his politeness and smiled. "You're welcome, dear. Do take care now and be sure to say hello when you pass through. Cynder has already paid up a week's worth, so I believe she will be staying here for a little while."

Spyro's smile grew ever so slightly. At least she wasn't going anywhere. Though he did ponder how much money he actually put into that purse. He bowed his head to the old mole. "Thank you again, Mrs.…"

The aged mole's beady eyes grew and showed off even more wrinkles. The great Master Spyro personally asked her name! "Pearl," she replied.

"Well, thank you, Mrs. Pearl. It is an honour to meet you."

Spyro turned to leave. He didn't know why more people couldn't just act casual around him like this old lady. Some days he wished he could make this life disappear, so he was just some unassuming bloke walking down the street… Free and unbound from the high expectations that chained him down.

The purple drake took off, heading for the barracks, his son once more wooting in joy. This small sphere of happiness he held in his palm, his son, was the one thing he could never wish away. This glowing beacon shone bright at the end of his dark tunnel each day. How Spyro wished he could be as carefree as he. But for now...this was the closest he could get. He squeezed the little hatchling gently and lovingly, hoping he knew how much his father cared for him.


	15. Water Under the Bridge

Water Under the Bridge

Half the floor now shone like a gem, while the other half still looked bedraggled. In the centre of it all, a crimson dragoness lay. She was tired but determined to finish the job. Adding the stripping agent to remove the previous layer was easy enough, but applying the new wax coating was proving to be a real pig of a task.

The process was more strenuous and extensive than she'd first imagined, but she would endeavour until it was done. For the moment, though, she had paused. She wiped the sweat off her brow and rested her weary claws. Although she did ask Spyro to leave, she didn't appreciate the lack of distractions.

Though, that wasn't the only reason she was worn out. Even though they were on break, she could detect the falter and lack of enthusiasm hidden in his tone. She couldn't understand why...

She'd given him permission and direction on what to do on something he wanted, and that seemed to have drained the enthusiasm out of it. Before she'd agreed to his plan, he'd seemed happy and hopeful, if a bit afraid to ask. But as she'd added more ideas to his, his mood had soured, and all of a sudden it was as if he wasn't committed to his own idea anymore. Was she the reason he was disheartened all the time?

...Of course she wasn't. Spyro loved her, otherwise they never would've married. Maybe he was just tired, like he said. It probably didn't help she laid so much onto him early in the morning.

She nodded to herself. That must've been the reason. They'd both been so exhausted recently, with work pulling them in every direction. An early night followed by an easy morning could do the trick.

For a second she was sound with the idea, but doubt quickly crept back up.

She shook her head; worrying over these thoughts wouldn't get the floor waxed. For now, she should be grateful that her mate was dedicating time to bonding with his son. That put a smile on her tired face.

A humble knock reverberated around the empty room, drawing her attention away from her thoughts. She made her way to the white front door, avoiding the drying wax, and opened it.

Outside stood Cyril, a familiar face and a welcome distraction.

"Cyril?"

He bowed softly. "Good morning, Mrs. Solaria. How are you this fine morning?"

"I'm fine, I guess, thank you." She gestured with a paw. "Please come in — mind where you step, though, please!"

Cyril panicked and quickly pulled back his raised claw. "Doing some home cleaning, I presume?" He chuckled.

Solaria moved out of the way to allow the large ice dragon through. Despite his size he was still dwarfed in comparison to the humongous room.

"Yeah, it was long overdue but neither of us has had the time to do it. Anyway, what brings you here?"

"I just so happened to wander by and thought I'd come and check up on the two of you. That, and I also wish to speak to Spyro."

"Spyro is out for the moment, he's taken Ignirius to go see Cynder and complete some jobs for me. He'll be back in a while, though. Come in. If you plan on staying a little while, I should at least get you some tea."

Cyril smiled. "That would be delightful."

The pair of guardians headed for the kitchen, with Solaria closing the large front door behind them.

The two of them sat around the oak dining table. A snow-white table cloth covered its surface . It was funny how unproportionate the furniture inside was compared to the actual size of the house. Cyril had to lie on his stomach and lean downwards to drink from his cauldron of tepid brew. Solaria, meanwhile, sat on her haunches with her slightly smaller cup.

Cyril gave off a refreshed sigh after sipping a portion of his tea. "Anyway, dear. How have things been between you two since?"

Solaria grimaced. "Not good, unfortunately."

Cyril raised a brow. "And why is that?"

"I don't know. I thought this holiday would give him reason to be happy. But this morning he was still acting the same. I've been trying to think of why, but I've got nothing."

Cyril was saddened to hear this. He was certain a break was what they needed, but apparently not...

"Cyril…?"

Cyril turned to look at the dragoness; a serious frown was etched into her face.

"Am… Am I the problem?"

The ice guardian was taken aback by this wild suggestion. "Pardon?!"

Solaria shrunk a little. "Am I the reason Spyro is so unhappy…?"

The elder dragon was bewildered. "Where in Ancestor's name did you get that absurd notion from?"

Solaria was surprised by this sudden outburst; for a moment she thought she had offended him somehow.

"Of course you're not the problem. That is utterly ridiculous and nonsensical! Spyro does not realise how fortunate he is to be blessed with a dragoness like yourself."

Solaria was touched by this passionate sentiment. She removed the frown on her face and replaced it with a soft smile. "Thank you, Cyril. You're right… But that doesn't solve the issue. There's something else dragging Spyro down and I need to figure out what it is."

" _We_ need to figure it out, dear." Cyril took another mouthful of tea. "It was why I actually wanted to speak to him. But perhaps between us we could collate some ideas together?"

Solaria was relieved once more that Cyril had her corner and was offering his support. "Any ideas would be appreciated."

Cyril scratched his chin thoughtfully for a second. His sudden outburst had given him an idea. "I have one, actually. Does he have many friends that you know of?"

Solaria tilted her head slightly. "No, not really. Most days he comes home late due to 'work', and the days he doesn't he pretty much goes straight to bed. I try and have conversations with him and do nice things, but he often doesn't return the favour…" She sighed.

Cyril could see the bleakness in her eyes. The sadness of not being appreciated for all the work she did to try and make him happy. It hurt inside to see her like this, worn out from the constant pushing back. He then tried to picture himself in Spyro's scales.

Even though he wasn't grateful of Solaria's efforts, Cyril had seen Spyro thanking the moles in the cafeteria earlier that week. So he wasn't rude by default… only when Solaria tried to do something thoughtful.

He pieced two and two together and realised that Spyro had grown accustomed to Solaria's pampering. It happened so often, since Spyro didn't spend time with anyone else, that he no longer valued their moments together. But if the purple dragon were to spend time with other people, those he got on well with, that might make him realise how much he missed Solaria.

He hatched a plan in his head and he knew the perfect way to execute it using a particular dragoness. He then explained his idea and reasoning to Solaria, who displayed an array of emotions: curiosity, shock, and uncertainty.

"You really think that's it?" she questioned.

Cyril nodded. "I do."

Solaria retreated to her thoughts.

Cyril could see Solaria was seriously contemplating this, so he allowed her time.

The dragoness bounced back and forth between the pros and cons. This holiday was meant to be about the two of them and Ignirius. So, to suddenly hop aboard Cyril's plan would completely ruin this one. On the other hand, the holiday hadn't yielded much success anyway. She thought hard about this mental game of ping pong.

She looked up back to Cyril, conflict heavy on her face. "If we were to go through with this...who would be the 'dragon?'"

"Cynder."

"Cynder?!" Solaria almost outright said no. But doubt strangled those words in her throat. "But why her?" She hadn't given the black dragoness much thought since their brief encounter and when Spyro brought her up in conversation.

The knowledge of Spyro heading out to see Cynder, and the fact good news awaited him, solidified Cyril's theory that, after they met, they'd become good friends once more. "Spyro and Cynder share a special connection."

Solaria glared, warning the guardian he was entering jealous territory.

"I know what you are doing, Solaria…" Cyril frowned. "But for you to understand my reasoning, I need to explain. Spyro and Cynder share a unique connection. I cannot fathom what it is that makes it so special, but their friendship ignites a blaze that touches even the ancestors. I believe this is could be the solution to returning Spyro back to normality, and to _saving your marriage."_

The last bit caused Solaria to wince. Even though she had thought of it through and through, she didn't want to believe that with the way things had been transpiring. That the road the two were currently on would spiral into tearing their family apart… Yet she still knew that was the most likely outcome unless something changed.

"But what if it fails… Cyril? What if our family is ripped apart and I lose him? What if Spyro goes back to Cynder?!" For a moment she raised her voice in despair, only for it to hushen down to a whimper. "...Spyro spent six years getting over her. What's to stop him falling in love with her again?"

He could understand her fears and worries. Knowing from the past how often Spyro kept himself locked up in a room, crying himself to sleep… His eyes often looked red in the morning, yet there was nothing Cyril could do to comfort him, all because Cynder was gone…

However, he also knew times had changed. Spyro was no longer sad and alone; he was disgruntled and bothered by something. Yet he was still loyal. Loyal to his cause, loyal to the city, and most importantly, loyal to Solaria. He could never imagine Spyro going behind her back. "I'm certain Spyro would never do that to you. He is your mate, as you are his. You are bound together forever, and if Spyro hasn't gone back in the last four years, I highly doubt he would now."

Solaria listened intently, but his words did nothing to soothe. She became engulfed in her head again. Trains of thoughts rushed through her brain's station, with only worries and fears stepping off onto the platform of her mind. She didn't want anyone else directly intervening with her problems, let alone Cynder...

Her heart crashed into the depths of her body and her head slumped onto the table. She hated this plan.

Her eyes wandered up to the patient guardian, who could tell this suggestion had caused the dragoness great distraught. But, thankfully, she hadn't waved the idea away yet.

"Do you really believe this is the only way?"

Cyril sighed and nodded. He wished there was another way, knowing how much it pained the dragoness. But Solaria had to put away her jealousy and trust Spyro to make it through without her.

Solaria could see the logic, which was what she despised the most. But Cyril was had to trust Spyro like she always had. Cynder may have been his light years ago, and Solaria fought hard to be the one that shined bright in his eyes, but now she had to temporarily hand that honor back to Cynder so she could guide him out of the dark…

She breathed a sigh of defeat. "Alright. How are we going to do this?"

Cyril smiled, appreciating her cooperation without anger. "We let it run its course. If I suspect correctly, Spyro will want to spend time with Cynder regardless, and as time goes on, he'll naturally return to his former self."

It irked her to have to trust the one dragoness she envied to save their marriage.

"Speaking of which, let us not tell him of any of this. I suspect if he caught wind of this, he may accuse us of meddling."

"But what if he starts suspecting? If I suddenly let him go with no questions asked, then he will get suspicious."

"Then act natural, my dear."

For once, Cyril's words didn't reassure her.

"Anyway. I'd best be off. I have a _pleasant_ citizen waiting for me back at my office... Take care now and thank you for the tea. Do let me know how things go," Cyril finished. He had a smile on his face, one Solaria falsely returned.

She showed him to the front door and they both exchanged bows once more before going on their separate paths.

Now that the ice dragon was gone, Solaria could wander her maze-like mind alone. To be honest, she wasn't at all keen on the plan. There was nothing for her to control, nothing she could do to prevent it falling through...and relying on Cynder of all dragons to get through to him... It was almost too much to bear.

She was weighing herself down with these self-loathing thoughts. Was she not trusting Spyro enough? These worries struck her brain like whips.

She needed time to evaluate this. Maybe a bit more hard work would take her mind off the issue, allowing her time to recharge. She grabbed the scrubber off the floor and returned to the routine of vigorously polishing the floors.

Spyro and Captain Adonis walked down an extensive and unlavish corridor leading to the training courtyard. Benches were bolted onto the grey concrete walls. Pale wallpaper clung on in patches, presumably ripped off over time. Despite the rundown appearance, there were a few busts of moles and dragons well maintained in glass cases, ones Spyro suspected to be famous warriors of the past. Every so often they passed a door, some labelled as offices, others Spyro presumed to be classrooms of sorts where they taught the Warfang law and alike.

He and Adonis rarely saw eye to eye. Each had differing opinions on certain subjects such as the death penalty, which had caused tempers to flare up in the past. As such, Spyro avoided him when possible. They still could have a civil conversation when necessary, though.

Little Ignirius had gone to sleep, cradled inside a tiny red hammock Spyro fashioned across his chest. The excitement from before had knackered out the little tyke, leaving him deaf to the world and free to enjoy his little, happy dreams.

"I have to admit, I wasn't expecting her to walk through the doors yesterday," Adonis commented, referring to Cynder.

"It surprised me as well," Spyro replied.

"Anyway, why is it you wish to see her now? Is it to congratulate her? You've been tight-lipped about it since you got here."

"Partly that… but I also need to talk to her about something."

Small talk was their way of dealing with each other, not wishing to give up details of their lives.

Adonis stopped, a sullen look on his face. He confronted the purple dragon. "I need to know the real reason you are here, Spyro."

Spyro grumbled. "It's because I need to apologise to her."

"Okay... What about?"

Spyro growled to himself. Frustrated at the nosiness of the drake, even though he was just 'doing his job.' "I said some stuff to her yesterday that I regret, which is why I'm here today."

"Thank you," Adonis said nonchalantly. He had heard through gossip about the incident, which led him to believe Spyro was referring to that. "We can continue." He resumed his pondering at once, down the hall with Spyro in pursuit. "The only reason I'm allowing this one time is because you are the purple dragon, so consider it a favour."

Both dragons secretly thought that the sooner they were out of each other's horns the better.

They turned a corner. Right in front of them, a pair of thick oak doors were left open. Scratches, nicks and burns indicated years of combat from possibly the orc army and occasional recruit misfire.

Spyro realised they were about to enter the courtyard, where they practiced drills. It also doubled up as the arena to hone combat skills. He would be lying to himself if he said he wasn't nervous. After the cruel words he had spoken to her, he wasn't sure how she'd react…

They emerged into the open. The barracks were built around this open space, but a thick, magic-infused, metal mesh was cast overhead to stop stray magic from hitting the unsuspecting passersby. Around the outside were wooden stands with a wide variety of weapons for the moles. A prominent feature was a silver flagpole standing in the back, cheerily waving the Warfang colours.

However, the real spectacle was happening in the centre. The black dragoness,Cynder, was spiralling towards the ground with an incapacitated orc dummy in her grasp. Beneath them gathered a small crowd of more dummies, hopelessly swinging their shoddy wooden axes.

Seconds before hitting the ground, she blasted a concentrated sphere of dark crimson into the stomach of the helpless orc, launching it down into the group. The impact resulted in an explosion of flaming hay and black and red wisps. A howling screech ripped through the air, much to the whooping enjoyment of her fellow recruits.

The dragoness floated to the ground with the grace of a feather, the explosion still convulsing behind her. The master of dramatic endings had done it again!

Spyro's jaw dropped. He had seen and been through combat before – these days mostly scuffles on the floor between drunken moles – but it had been many years since he'd had the pleasure of seeing such grace and beauty, to observe an expert taking pleasure in their explosive field.

Adonis, though, had a scornful look on his face. "I thought we'd been through this before…" he muttered to himself.

"Huh?" Spyro stared at him perplexed.

The captain briefly turned to Spyro. "Wait here, I'll get Cynder…"

Spyro watched as Adonis marched into the courtyard. His laid-back posture from before had taken up a more tense appearance. While Spyro wasn't keen on Adonis' reaction, he thought it was best to let it play out.

"Cynder!?" he boomed out across the yard, grabbing the attention of her, Spyro and the other recruits. The area fell silent.

Cynder turned with a worried look about her.

"You have a visitor…"

Though his words seemed harmless, Cynder could tell there was a murky anger brewing inside of him.

Cynder looked beyond the captain to see the purple dragon lurking in the doorway. This shocked her. Though, she didn't get long to ponder as Adonis now loomed over her. The scowl on his face made her shrink further down.

"I thought we had a conversation about showing off…?"

"I..." Cynder was wordless. She had no argument.

"Forgive me for my intrusion, Captain," a mole dressed in old dented armor spoke up. He was battle-scarred, but still polite and sharp with his words, a product of years of servitude in the guard. "But I asked her to demonstrate her skills. I was attempting to gauge her levels of expertise...and also motivate these other recruits."

Adonis raised a thoughtful eyebrow. "Regardless, Cynder should've learned from yesterday and, as such, will be punished later."

Everyone cringed, Cynder particularly, considering it was only her first day.

Spyro thought this was harsh, even though he only had a clue of what this was about. Yet it only reminded him how savage his words had been.

"We will discuss this further after the drill. For now, go and talk to Spyro."

Cynder slinked away; she hadn't done anything wrong in her eyes, yet she was getting punished regardless. None of the other recruits said a word; to them, she was awesome. But when the captain said otherwise, who were they to argue?

"You may resume, Corporal Smith," Adonis added, turning his attention to the corporal. "I am simply observing for now."

"Very well, Captain." The mole saluted. "All recruits, back into position!"

"Yes, sir!" they yelled in unison, disheartened the show had ended so briefly and on a bitter note.

That was the last audible thing Cynder heard as she slumped through the door. For a brief second she almost forgot Spyro was there, and blinked twice when he seemingly appeared in front of her. He had a visible look of concern on his face. She didn't know what to say, uncertain how he was feeling after yesterday. She also saw his adorable son strapped in, and her heart melted seeing the sleeping hatchling.

"Are you alright?" he asked. Those simple words helped open up the conversation.

"I'm fine. I just… Don't worry about it." She tried to smile, but her burdened mind could only keep it up for a second.

"Are you sure? That didn't seem really fair of him to call you out like that."

She noted the genuine sincerity in his voice, which somewhat surprised her. "You think so?"

Spyro gently nodded. "I don't know what his problem is, but I thought you were amazing."

It was clear to Cynder that any anger Spyro had been clutching onto from yesterday was gone, and that comment made her feel bubbly inside. The previous sadness peeled away, leaving behind a beam and her tail swishing side to side.

Spyro could see she was happier, but that didn't make the lump in his throat any easier to swallow. "Anyway, I wanted to apologise...about my actions yesterday."

Cynder tilted her head slightly, her grin faltering.

"It was unfair of me to react the way I did. I shouldn't have yelled at you, and I should've been more patient. So I hope you can forgive me."

Her smile returned, this time with empathetic sincerity. "You big softy… Of course I forgive you." She chuckled. She hoisted herself onto her hind legs and embraced the drake in a friendly hug, careful not to crush his son in the process.

Spyro smiled as well and returned the gesture.

"I also wanted to make it up to you and was thinking that perhaps you would like to grab some dinner together? My treat."

This kept getting better and better for the dragoness. "Yes please!" She instantly covered her mouth, realising her excitement came out louder than she'd anticipated. But both laughed it off.

"Great… When and where do you want to do that?"

Cynder pondered this. "Not sure if I can tonight. Got some paperwork I need to go through and fill out…" She sighed. "Maybe tomorrow, though? I'm free after five, so maybe six? Oh, and I would love to go the the Angry Blazer again."

Spyro tittered, knowing how much of a slog paperwork was. Though he was glad that restaurant was a big hit with Cynder and was more than happy to go back there. "Sounds good."

"Awesome. Anyway, I better get back. I'm not sure what kind of punishment Adonis has got lined up for me, but I don't want to make it worse."

Cynder nuzzled his cheek softly. While Spyro was a little uncertain, he convinced himself it was only a kind gesture to signify that their flame of friendship had not died out. Cynder turned to head to the door.

"Good luck, and see you tomorrow," Spyro called after her.

Cynder twisted her head one last time and returned his words with genuine smile.

He watched as she slowly vanished around the corner. He was happy…

The purple drake didn't want another awkward conversation with Adonis. So he decided to show himself out, walking down the extensive, damaged corridor once more.

She made him proud; having found a good, respectable job, while also taking it seriously. He was looking forward to tomorrow, something he hadn't done in a long time. But, for now, he had a couple more jobs to do for his wife.

Renewed with energy, Spyro smiled at the tasks to come.


	16. A Change is Due

A Change is Due

With grocery supplies and Solaria's repaired necklace in one claw, and a squirming child cradled around his neck, the burdened dragon was finally making his way home.

After his apology to Cynder, he'd headed to the park to give his son some open space to play around. It was more of a mole-made raised plateau than an actual park, but there were still plenty of wide areas for families to spend time in.

His son had run and run, occasionally tripping over his own feet and crashing face-first into the grass. He would sniffle for a moment before his father gently scooped him up and cuddled his bumps and bruises away, only for him to repeat the exact same thing five minutes later.

The occasional Spyro fan had tried to intervene, but thankfully a few guards had intercepted them before they could.

After about an hour of chasing his son around the green meadows, Spyro had given up. He'd hoped all the exercise would tucker the youngling out, but apparently that was not the case. His son was an energy dynamo...

After a couple more minutes of mindless bombing around in random directions, Spyro had picked his son up and tucked him away in his hammock, much to the hatchling's disgruntlement. The little one swayed in his woven prison, trying hard to free himself, but to no avail.

He'd then flown to the jeweller's to pick up Solaria's repaired necklace and lastly to the grocers to pick up a few odd pieces they needed. After all that, he could finally head home.

But in all of the anticipation of before, he had never mentioned to Solaria that he wanted to have dinner with Cynder as friends… He wasn't sure how he would get away with this, even though he was racking his brain for ideas.

His train of thought must have gone on longer than he realised, because by the time he came out of autopilot he was already wandering down the corridor of his home. Though he had plenty of time to figure this out, he was never one for leaving issues until later.

He politely nodded to the guards standing either side of the door while indicating with his head for them to open it for him, since he needed his other three legs to walk. The moles obliged, using all their might to heave the heavy door ajar just enough for the purple dragon to squeeze through with his belongings. The moles then slowly closed it behind him.

"Solaria, dear. I'm home!" he called out, his words bouncing off the echoey walls. He was about to advance further in when he remembered the floors. He carefully examined them to make sure none of it was still drying.

"I'll be out in a moment!" a voice emanated from the kitchen, belonging to his lovely wife.

Spyro thought there was no point her coming out then when he had to go in to drop off the groceries. He padded carefully across the slippery, shiny tiles and pushed through the kitchen door.

Solaria sat at the kitchen table, relaxing herself with a nice cup of brew. Spyro thought this was a good idea, so he planned to grab one himself.

"How was it?" she asked after sipping her tea.

"It was good. Apologised to Cynder, took Ignirius to the park. I tell you…" He chuckled. "Our little boy can run."

Solaria smirked back. She was glad that things in the park went well, but she was more interested in his conversation with Cynder. She quickly glanced over the other things in his paws, knowing already what they were. " _At least he remembered to get those."_

"How did things go with Cynder? Did she accept your apology?"

Spyro placed the two bags onto the table before tending to his son still wiggling around in the hammock. "It went – fine," he grunted, struggling to grasp the slippery little child slung around his neck.

Solaria giggled as she got up and went to assist the purple dragon. After she'd ridden him of the lovable pest, Spyro was able to talk normally.

"Thanks." He smiled. "And yes, she did. She's found herself a job already and we talked briefly. I also got your jewelry and some stuff to last us a couple of days," he replied, trying to direct the conversation away. He got to putting the shopping away, opening various cupboards and trying to recall where everything went.

Solaria was bemused by this. Two days in and already finding herself a place of work. Maybe Cynder had intentions other than Spyro. This slightly raised her opinion of the black dragoness.

She realised now was the moment to put the plan in motion. It was time to change Spyro for the better with the help of Cynder.

To be honest, she was very hesitant to do so. The idea of pushing Spyro and Cynder closer together didn't sit right, solely for the reason of what could happen – the very real chance of Spyro falling for her again…

However, in the last hour, she'd been turning her head upside to find another solution, yet this yielded nothing. If this was really the only plan they had, then she needed to commit to it fully.

She took a deep breath before speaking. "So… When do you plan on meeting up next?"

"I don't know yet," he lied nonchalantly. He wasn't ready to propose his plans yet.

"Oh come on, you must have some idea. You can tell me."

Spyro could instantly tell she was acting suspicious. "Why do you want to know…?" Solaria never asked about what he wanted unless he accidentally dropped a hint or told her himself...

She gulped to herself; was she too direct? "Errm. Well, I thought that, after talking, you would want to see her again anyway."

Spyro saw through this facade, clear as day. "Are you alright? It feels like you want to tell me something but…" Spyro sighed. He knew what was coming if he answered honestly. "You don't want me to see her… do you?"

"Nope, quite the opposite, actually."

Again, Spyro was confused by her words; she was never this nervous or indecisive. He sat down beside her, trying to coax the truth from her maw. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she tried assuring to no success. But she wasn't just indecisive; she was the whole-nine-yards of panicking.

"Talk to me," Spyro firmly but softly instructed.

Those words sliced through her thought processes, freezing those worries for just a moment as a crucial part of her brain scrambled to come up with a reasonable explanation. Yet the helm of her thoughts hung onto how gentle and caring he was in that moment, a side she hadn't been able to connect to in a while. Even if it was brief, perhaps there was a spark to Cyril's plan after all.

At last, a sentence breathed out of her maw. "I was thinking while you were out, about Cynder," she started. "About the way I treated her a couple of nights ago and what you said."

Spyro tried to think back to what he'd said, but nothing particularly came up.

"Cynder is a hero, but, more importantly, she is your _friend._ As such, I think it's only fair we welcome her back into the city as that: a friend." She then looked into his eyes. "She is very precious to you and I don't want you to feel like you can't pursue that friendship because of me. All I ask is that you be honest with me when you want to see her, okay?"

This was it, this was Solaria passing along the torch. She had unveiled her opinion without revealing the alterior objective, and now she just had to wait.

Spyro was stunned. Solaria was never this open when it came to such things. To be granted the freedom to do this was a leap outside of her personality. This made Spyro question her motive even further…

He almost leapt at the open door she had left. But paranoia laced it with a mental booby trap. He was certain there was some hidden test on the other side, one he would fail if he didn't play cautiously.

He lowered his brow at her and her attempts, trying to peer through the fake smile. He wasn't going to play this game and fall into her claws.

"Why are you bringing this up now…?"

Solaria swore under her breath. She had been too direct, as she feared. Now she had no space to back-peddle. She despised this cautious side of him as it often led to yet another argument. She growled to herself at how difficult he was being, and that made her blood boil.

"Do you want to see her?" she finally responded, with a bit of her infamous attitude leaking through.

However, Spyro wasn't backing down. "Well, obviously. But I'm asking why you're so interested in me spending more time with Cynder. What is the _real_ reason for this?"

The gloves were off. Spyro had busted down the walls Solaria had created around him. Now, there was nowhere for her to hide.

Solaria stuttered and gawked, unable to answer back to Spyro's glare or words. However, this didn't last long. Cornered and angry, she lashed out. "What the hell do you mean, reason?"

Spyro stifled his surprise, very aware he was about to undergo yet another beratement. This time it was him cursing to himself. He should've just gone with it, then it wasn't guaranteed that she would fly off the handle.

"I'm trying to do something nice and yet here you are flinging it back in my face," she ranted, sweeping a claw in front of her, indicating an imaginary plate or something like that.

Poor, innocent Ignirius had already begun crying in his mother's claws, wishing for the yelling to come to an end.

Spyro had already switched off at this point, only allowing the odd word through.

She drawled on, about how he should be spending more time out socialising, being more grateful and so on. On and on she went, leaping to conclusions like it was a long jump event.

Finally, he couldn't take it anymore. "Alright! I'm seeing her tomorrow evening, we're having dinner!"

Solaria stopped her barrage and stared. Both dragons knew the argument was over and that there was no victor.

Spyro growled to himself, feeling fury coursing through his veins. He needed to remove himself from the room before things got worse.

He stomped towards the door. He had to do something to release this pent-up rage. He decided to head to his secret spot. He pushed the door open and let it slam shut behind him.

Solaria tended to her wailing child, calming them both down after the heated exchange. This was what she had been afraid of. But after the way he treated it, she didn't feel any remorse. She'd managed to force the answer out of him, and he hadn't entirely rebelled against her undiscovered plan. So, as bitter as it was, it was successful. She just needed to give him time to cool down, and time to better prepare for similar situations. Today had been a necessary evil.

Spyro, meanwhile, waited outside the door. He felt the rage clutch him like a parasite, refusing to leave him and feeding on his negative thoughts. He noticed a few black wisps radiating around him… He needed to leave now. After taking a second to regain control of his shaky breathing, he headed for the front door.

He was making way to his secret place, a place not even Solaria knew of – a nearby rooftop covered in a canopy of vines and leaves. Wooden frames supported the tangling vines, providing shelter for the delicate flowers beneath. They allowed only rays of light to peer through, enough to satisfy their pretty petals. The flowers bloomed in an array of blues and purples, mixed in with reds and yellows beneath an ancient oak tree. An assortment of birds called this little garden home, their soulful cries forming a song of harmony. It was a pocket paradise.

Spyro had happened upon this place by chance, during a similar fit of rage. Since then he would often venture here during moments of wrath. The elderly gardener who tended this sanctuary didn't mind. He understood that even the purple dragon needed to release pent-up anger from time to time. Plus, he appreciated being able to share his pride and joy with someone else, so it was a mutual understanding.

For the moment, Spyro relaxed in his refuge, letting his anger leave in breaths of fresh air.

* * *

Cynder wasn't fairing much better in her job. To put it bluntly, it was boring and unfulfilling. The night before she started, she had been dreaming of danger and action, of saving citizens at the last second while catching corrupt crooks.

But here she was, navigating this empty maze of cabinets, looking for the right drawers to store reports…

After her stunt earlier, Captain Adonis had punished her with filing duty. She pushed the cart of paper further into the labyrinth with only her shadow to keep her company.

Today hadn't been a good one and she wasn't sure if she could keep it up. Tomorrow, though, she would go on duty with one of the more experienced guards, so she was looking forward to that. Maybe that would satisfy the excitement she was craving.

For now, though, she was stuck wandering these lonely corridors like a ghost. On the plus side, being alone did allow her to explore her imagination. She soared the open skies with Spyro at her side. They leapt over waterfall edges and pulled up at the very last moment, feeling the mist touch their underbellies as they passed. They would then lay atop a green hill on their backs, watching the clouds drift by together.

She knew he was already spoken for...but that didn't stop her from imagining life together, and what their child would've looked like should they have had one.

She sighed happily and stared out one of the few windows. It was hard to guess, but she estimated it to be almost evening. That meant her shift would soon come to an end. She shivered. Despite the sweltering heat outside, the sparse amount of windows meant the large room felt like a fridge. She didn't want to go through this again if she could avoid it.

* * *

Eventually, Adonis came and retrieved Cynder. After another harsh reminder, she was dismissed. It was fair to say she wasn't that keen on the drake.

After she left the barracks, she stood in the middle of the path, unsure as to what to do now. She thought about heading home, but what she would actually do when she got there was beyond her. The sun was much lower than before, as she'd suspected, but there was still a couple hours of daylight.

As she was thinking, her stomach protested. She hadn't really had much to eat today, and the measly meal they called lunch hardly did anything to satiate her hunger.

It was decided; she would go grab dinner. But this led to another dilemma. What did she want for dinner…?

As she stood in the open, she became conscious of the fact that some of the passersby were staring at her. Sure enough, as she looked around, several moles and dragons gawked at her, uncertain if this dragoness was who she really was.

News of her had been spreading like a cold. However, they were mostly rumours and unconfirmed sightings at this point. One particularly brave dragon began approaching her, almost certainly about to ask the question on everyone's mind.

However, wanting to avoid what Spyro dreaded most, she hastily took off. Even if they wanted to, no one was quick enough to catch up to her.

As she glided through the air undisturbed, it gave her the time to think of her evening plans. First and foremost, she wanted to get cleaned. She hadn't noticed it before, but exercising on a hot day had left her hot and sweaty. She thought about using the local dragon baths Spyro showed her the day before. However, the idea of bathing with other females felt uncomfortable to her. It was something she'd regrettably picked up from the apes back when... Stupid apes…

Beyond the city walls, though, she could see a glistening river. The crystal-clear blue reflected the sun's vibrant rays, as if it was inviting her over from way over there. That was enough to convince Cynder. It wouldn't be as hygienic as Spyro's bath, but she was used to it.

When she arrived, she submerged herself in the cool waters, letting the crystal liquid wash away the sweat from today's hard work. Afterwards, she laid back on the river's edge, only letting her weary head rest upon the soft grass growing along the bank.

This was bliss. The gentle water washed down her body, taking away the pent-up stress. It was particularly pleasant since it also cooled her off. This was her time now...free to do what she wanted with it.

Her stomach, though, made sure she didn't forget about her other priority – food. It growled and grumbled until she eventually submitted. She found herself fancying venison again. After how nice it was yesterday, who could blame her for craving it again? She'd just ask for less herbs on top this time and it would be perfect.

* * *

Cynder had to head home quickly to scoop up the gem bag Spyro had given to her. Afterwards she found The Angry Blazer after using the temple as a reference point. She decided to glide above the street this time after how awkward the walk was yesterday, but as she did, she found herself surprised at how empty of people the cobblestoned alley was. Even more so, she was shocked at how well cleaned the place was; there was no sign of any rubbish, the puddles of spilt beer had been washed away, and the drunkards had sobered up and gone home. It looked like any normal, respectable high street. Though, saying that, the faint stench of alcohol still contaminated the air…

Shortly after, she landed in between the pair of glowing braziers. A couple of rugged locals sat at tables on opposing sides, minding their own business as they focused on wasting the evening away. She wandered into the establishment as not to draw their attention.

Inside it was as dark as ever, though it was nowhere near as busy as it had been two nights ago. There was the odd customer brooding in the corners and a couple of them playing darts on a heavily marked board. There was also no sign of the drake from before...thankfully.

In the centre of the room she noticed Banzai, even though he wasn't wearing his bright white attire, just a grubby grey apron over a stained shirt and trousers. Not only that, it was only him and two others holding down the kitchen and bar, and not the small army he'd had the previous time.

She made her way over to the bar, where she was quickly spotted by the keen-eyed mole. Although, he didn't pay her any attention as he tried to scrape away gunk inside a drinking glass with a knife.

The stool she sat herself on gave a worrying creak of protest, but it held.

"You've returned, I see," Banzai noted. He still had one of his beady eyes fixed on the glass while he worked the knife underneath the dirt. "Bad cooking not scare you away?"

"Not yet," Cynder giggled. She had noted the bar had many more markings than her table from before, and she suspected why.

The mole eventually managed to pry the grime away from the cup, flinging it goodness knows where. "I kid, I kid. Food here's amongst the best, of course." He placed the glass onto the table before jamming the knife into the wood, confirming Cynder's suspicions.

"But I am glad you come back." He threw his arms out into an imaginary hug. "Happy to see new customers return, sign of good business. What can I serve you?"

Cynder was all too happy to jump onto the topic of food. "I was actually hoping to get something to eat?"

"Of course. What can Banzai get the lovely dragoness?"

"Venison, please. But with no herbs this time, if that's okay."

Banzai spun around. "Carver!" he barked. "One game, undressed!"

The second mole nodded before hurrying as fast as his little stubby legs could carry him.

"It be done in a sec. Now, in meantime, lady like some fine wine this time?"

Cynder shook her head. "No, thank you. Just water, please."

"Bah!" Banzai spat, much to the confusion of Cynder. "Banzai wishes he resists as easily as you. But Banzai enjoys his liquor too much…" He proved his own statement by sneaking a quick, strong shot under the bar. He didn't even flinch when the potent liquor disappeared down his throat. "Anyway, how has life been?"

Cynder soon found herself indulged in conversation with the mole; even through her meal they chatted on. Banzai found himself intrigued by Cynder's adventures with Spyro while spinning some tales of his own, revealing he was once a bounty hunter. Cynder found that really interesting. Even after a couple of hours, when the sun was beginning to set, the duo talked on.

Customers came and went, but the dragoness found herself enraptured in conversation. She believed she had found her first friend besides Spyro and the guardians.

Even though the bar got busier as night came about, Cynder found herself talking about her problems to the listening mole.

"–So I don't know if I'm cut out to be a guard. I just don't think it's what I want to do."

"I see. I once tried guard, not work out, as you guess."

"I just. I dunno…" Cynder sighed. She felt she was being too hasty, that she was looking at things the wrong way, like Spyro said. But, at the same time, she knew her heart wasn't lying in what it wanted. She didn't know exactly what it desired...but it wasn't this.

"Sometimes, you go with gut feeling. If it tells it's wrong, then most likely is. Don't leave decision too long. Otherwise you get stuck."

Cynder rested her head on her claws and thought for a second. Conflicting thoughts collided in her mind, guided by different points of views. "What about you? How did you know bounty hunting was for you, and what made you stop doing it and become a bar owner?"

Banzai tapped the flat edge of the knife against his cheek as he pondered. "I had wandering spirit, like you. But as I got older, my bones got weary. Not weary enough to not score headshot with knife, mind you. Long journeys, though, yes, too hard on worked bones. You know what you want when you see it. When heart beats fast, you _found_ it!"

Cynder took aboard these words. To her they were puzzling, but still held some familiar sense… Maybe the mad mole was onto something.

"Anyway, night is young, but weirdos come out. You best get home now."

Cynder nodded in agreement, finding herself tired out from all the talking and today's work. Tomorrow, she could look forward to coming back here with a dear friend of hers…

She reached into her sack to bring out the appropriate gems to pay for her meal. But as she did, she found herself concerned at how empty the sack had become. What was once heavy and full now only had a few pocket-change gems at the bottom. She would need to spend the remainder carefully until she got her first paycheck…

She bid the mole thanks and farewell before heading outside. The air was still sticky, but a pleasant breeze was blowing. She leapt into the pleasant sunset sky.


End file.
